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poisonlove · 2 days

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Can I have a request!? Jenna Ortega x Fem!Readder

"so.. you're just going to.. give up on me." "that is NOT what i meant-" "you're not willing to fight for me either. i think it's pretty clear, Y/n."

Credits to: urfriendlywriter

-Thank you!

FIGHT | j.o

Pairing: Jenna Ortega X reader

Status: request

Warning: fluffy

The distance was becoming difficult to bear.

Jenna was in Romania for the filming of 'Wednesday,' and our relationship was feeling the strain. Her messages were becoming rarer, and our calls, though filled with love, were always too brief.

I was in Italy, far from her, and the emptiness I felt was growing each day.

My eyes were fixed on the screen of my phone, waiting for Jenna's response: would she be up for a Skype video call?I nervously bit my lower lip, palms sweating. I wanted to see her and talk to her about... us. I don't want to seem selfish; I know how hard she's working, often late into the night... but is it too much to ask for a simple good morning every now and then?

I was even considering the idea of taking a break, not because I don't love her, but maybe it would be one less thing for her to worry about.

Jen❤️Call

I quickly skimmed my girlfriend's message and tapped on the Skype icon, calling Jenna.

After three rings, Jenna picked up.

Jenna's tired face appeared on the screen. "Hey, Amore" she said with a smile, "how are you?"

I looked sadly into her sleep-deprived eyes, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me.

I'm a horrible person.

I tried to smile, but the worry was evident in my eyes. "Hi Jen," I replied, forcing the corners of my lips into a smile.

"Everything okay, Amore?" Jenna responded with concern, likely noticing my obviously fake smile.

Of course she noticed, she's an actress.

"I can't wait to come home and hold you," she added, looking at me with total admiration, her brown eyes sparkling uniquely. I played with my fingers, looking down at my legs feeling the weight of the words I needed to say.

I took a deep breath.

"Jenna, we need to talk about how things are going between us," I said, wanting to get to the point.

I felt my heart pounding in my chest, every word charged with tension.

Jenna immediately noticed the seriousness in my voice. Her smile faded.

"What's wrong? Did I say something wrong?" I looked up and saw her expression change from happy to deeply troubled, her teeth biting her lower lip forcefully.

"No, you didn't say anything wrong," I replied, trying to stay calm despite the anxiety growing inside me."It's just that... it feels like we're drifting further apart. Your messages are rare, and the calls, as lovely as they are, are too short. I feel neglected," I timidly confessed, feeling my voice tremble.

Jenna sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"I know, and I'm sorry. The work here is grueling, and I try to make time for us, but it's not enough." Her smile returned, but it was forced. "Three more months and I'll be with you," she said calmly, her tone hopeful but tinged with despair.

"It's not just about time, Jenna," I continued, tears welling up behind my eyes. "It's that I feel like I'm not a priority to you anymore." I confessed, feeling the knot in my throat tighten.

Jenna looked at me with genuine concern.

"Don't say that. You're the most important thing to me," she said, looking at me sadly, her eyes watery. I could see the pain reflected in her eyes, and it broke my heart.

Jenna hates seeing me cry; it makes her sad.

"Then why don't you show it?" I snapped, my voice trembling with emotion. "I love you, Jenna, but I can't keep feeling this alone," I said angrily, sadness mixing with the rest of my emotions.

Jenna clenched her fists, frustration evident on her face.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is for me? I've been working for hours, learning scripts, shooting grueling scenes. I'm exhausted!" Jenna looked at me with anger, gritting her teeth. I could see the fatigue and frustration building up inside her like a volcano about to erupt.

"It's never enough for you, is it? You always want more," she said with frustration, her voice cracking.

Ouch. I felt her words like a stab in the gut.

"I don't deny that," I retorted, "but I can't ignore feeling neglected. Even a simple message once in a while would make a difference." I suggested, feeling the anxiety grow inside me as I noticed the change in atmosphere between us.

Jenna's anger soon gave way to sadness, and a strange look came over her eyes.

"So... are you... giving up on me?" she asked, her voice filled with pain. I could sense the fear behind her words, a fear that resonated within me too.

Her words hit me like a punch to the stomach.

"That's not what I meant-"

"Then are you willing to fight for us?" she interrupted, frustration and desperation in her voice. "Or are you going to leave me?"

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, feeling the tension rise.

"Jenna, I want to fight for us, but I can't do it alone. I need you to be willing to do the same. We can't make it if we don't both put in the effort. I love you, but I need to feel closer to you even when we're apart. We can find a balance, I'm sure of it, but it takes both of us." I felt tears running down my cheeks, every word filled with hope and fear.

Jenna remained silent, analyzing my words. Her gaze was intense, as if she was trying to understand every nuance of what I had said.

"You're right," she finally said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. I sighed loudly, finding her adorable, my heart lighter seeing her so vulnerable.

The sound of someone knocking on her door made me raise an eyebrow in confusion.

I looked at the screen, trying to figure out what was happening.

Jenna sighed and looked towards the door, irritated. "Coming!" she said to whoever was on the other side. "Damn persistence," she muttered softly before looking back at me with a big smile.

She muted the video call.

Jenna stood up from her desk chair, revealing her casual attire: an oversized T-shirt and a pair of shorts I had lent her for the trip. My heart swelled with tenderness seeing her wear something of mine, making me smile like an idiot.

As she walked away, I glanced at her trailer curiously. The walls were adorned with photos of us together, taken in happy moments. A plush toy I had won for her on our first date rested next to her pillow. There were work notes scattered on the table, highlighted scripts, and a half-empty coffee mug. The atmosphere was a mix of chaos and warmth, a perfect reflection of her current life.

Jenna returned to the computer, a strange look on her face. She seemed worried, as if something had troubled her.

"Everything okay?" I asked with concern.

Jenna unmuted and looked at me guiltily.

"It was Emma; she said Tim urgently wanted to see us," she said calmly.

I sighed loudly, feeling frustration grow.

"Go, I love you," I said with a small smile on my lips.

Even though I wanted to talk to her more.

Jenna widened her smile and blew a kiss to the camera. "Love you more," she said, smiling broadly, winking at me before ending the call.

I was alone again, the feeling of emptiness returning to fill the room. I looked at the dark screen, trying to process the conflicting emotions inside me. I felt relieved for having spoken up but still worried about what the future held for us.

But I realized it was time to make a drastic decision.

(...)

With the suitcase gripped tightly in my hands, I made my way towards the filming location accompanied by Percy, Jenna's best friend who had volunteered to come with me to ensure everything went smoothly.

As I navigated through the bustling security crowd on set, I reflected on how I had come to make this decision. I had chosen to take the flight to Romania because I felt a deep need to see Jenna. The long weeks of separation had intensified my desire to embrace her again, to feel her presence beside me.

The journey had been an ordeal, with its complications and unexpected expenses, but nothing could stop me. I felt that this gesture was important not only for the two of us but also for the future of our relationship. I was determined to show Jenna how much she meant to me, how much I was willing to do for us.

"I have to admit, it's a bit more challenging to get in here than I thought," I commented with a sigh of frustration as we made our way through the security crowd on set.

Percy nodded with a sympathetic smile.

"I figured. But you know, this is a big surprise you're giving Jenna. She'll be over the moon."

"I really hope so," I replied as Percy offered silent support while we continued to walk.

"Thank you so much for coming to meet me at the entrance and for avoiding the security questions by saying you were with me."

"Don't mention it," Percy replied with a nod.

"We're on the same team."

We exchanged a knowing smile as we continued to make our way through the set, searching for the spot where Jenna was filming.

There was utter chaos.

Cameras moved with precision, people walked frantically to coordinate everything, and Tim Burton's authoritative voice gave directives from behind the scenes.

As we advanced, I noticed Emma sitting in front of a makeup artist, focused as she was being prepared for her scene. With a glance, she gestured with her free hand to indicate where Jenna was.

"I'm going to get ready," Percy said with an apologetic smile, and I nodded weakly.

I left the suitcase in a corner.

Jenna, dressed as Wednesday, was in the middle of the forest on set, with a stern and concentrated look as she tried to get into character. However, her eyes seemed veiled with a subtle sadness. She scanned her surroundings, trying to focus despite the distractions.

Meanwhile, Tim Burton intervened from a distance with his authoritative voice.

"No, Jenna, you need to smile in this scene! Look at your uncle!" he said, trying to guide her performance and set the right atmosphere for the shot.

Jenna sighed loudly, visibly upset by the director's request. "Let's try again," she said determinedly to her crew, preparing for another attempt to capture the required emotion.

As the crew organized for the new take, Jenna finally spotted my figure among the actors and crew present on set.

Her face suddenly lit up with a radiant smile, momentarily forgetting the scene's tensions and focusing all her attention on me.My heart raced at the sight of that genuine smile.

Our gazes met, and time seemed to stand still as Jenna hurried towards me.

"Y/n!" Jenna exclaimed loudly, her voice echoing through the trees on set as she ran towards me.

"STOP!" Tim shouted, and Jenna continues to run "who is y/n?" The producer asked one of his colleagues

Without hesitation, Jenna caught up to me and hugged me tightly like a koala, holding me affectionately and lovingly. I felt the warmth of her body against mine, and my heart filled with joy at her closeness.

"You're really here," Jenna whispered emotionally against my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

Jenna began to cry.

The brunette held the embrace with a strength that conveyed all her love and gratitude. Her tears, warm and salty, began to silently trickle down her cheeks as emotion overwhelmed her.I felt her heart beating strongly against my chest, her breath hitched with the intensity of her emotions.

I stroked her hair, trying to comfort her as she continued to cry.

"I'm here, Jenna," I whispered softly, holding her even closer. "I'm here with you, forever."

Jenna said nothing, but her embrace spoke volumes for her.

It was an embrace that meant more than a thousand words, expressing all our love, our struggle, and our resilience.We remained wrapped in each other's arms, in the silence of the forest on set, while the world around us continued to turn. It was a moment of pure vulnerability and reconnection, a moment we would both cherish in our hearts forever.

It was clear that those tears were tears of joy, gratitude, overcoming fear, and rediscovered love. In that moment, all that mattered was that we were together, embraced and united, ready to face whatever destiny had in store for us.

When Jenna lifted her face from my neck, her eyes shone with renewed intensity. Without saying a word, she began to kiss my face tenderly, leaving a mark of affection on every inch of skin she could reach.

Then, with a sigh full of love, her kisses became more intense and deep, ending on my lips with a passion that reflected her gratitude and the joy of having me close again.Our kisses grew more intense, conveying all the passion accumulated during our separation. I felt the warmth of her body against mine, as my hands gently caressed her back. Jenna responded with the same ardor, as if she wanted to completely merge with me.

Time seemed suspended as we lost ourselves in our embraces and kisses.

Then, slowly, we pulled apart, holding hands and looking into each other's eyes with an intensity that spoke louder than any words.

"Y/N," Jenna whispered, her breath still ragged with emotion. "I've missed you so much. I've wanted you so much."

My lips curved into a tender smile. "I've missed you too, Jenna. You don't know how much I've longed for this moment, to feel you close to me again."Jenna pulled me even closer, as if she wanted to make sure I was really there with her.

"I love you so much," she said sincerely, her brown eyes shining with love.

"I love you more than words can say," I replied firmly, squeezing her hand against my heart. "And I'm here to fight for us, for as long as it takes."

Jenna nodded slowly, a tear of happiness sliding down her cheek.

"Thank you for not giving up on me," she said, her voice moved. "I promise I'll always be here for you."

We embraced again, our hearts beating in unison. In that moment, I knew we were stronger together, ready to face any challenge that came our way.

I would never give up on Jenna, never.

#Sad #Cry #Distance relationship #relationship #jenna x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega imagine #fluffy #love

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biaswreckme · 3 days

Text

my eyes are full of desire | mingi/reader

You and Mingi on a video call after the Mawazine festival concert.

Fandom: Ateez

Pairing: Mingi/Reader (gender neutral)

Member: Mingi

Word count: 1165 words

Genre/Tropes: Smut

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Triggers/Warnings: pwp, masturbation, phone/video call sex, established relationship, sex toys

You can read it on: AO3

A/N: This was heavily inspired by this pic from the Mawazine gig.

“I want to see you.”

“You are seeing me, love,” Mingi answered through the video call, not understanding at first what you were asking for. He had showered, hair still damp after getting to the hotel from the festival, newly cut hair enhancing his features.

“I mean… I know how you get after shows…” you start, still a little shy at voicing what you wanted sometimes, especially under his intense gaze.

“Yeah? How do I get?” He asked, the smirk on the corner of his lips letting you know he was aware of the effect he had on you and exactly what you were talking about.

“You know…” you took a deep breath, feeling your cheeks flush with both embarrassment and excitement, but also getting courage to voice your needs. “Needy. I want to see you touching yourself.”

He smiled and then bit his lower lip - he knew he was teasing you, for you always spoke of how much you missed his luscious lips whenever he was not in the same city. “Then get that vibrator you like, I’ll wait for you.” He asked, more of an order than anything, needing to see you fall apart with him.

You rushed out of bed and got the toy he was talking about; it was one on the smaller side, but curved just right where it could press on your spot and have you coming undone in little time. You went to clean it, using the time to also get undressed and shouted for him, telling him to get rid of his clothes too. At first, you were not really sure about doing these things, but after the first time you spent months apart while he was on tour, you caved in. You needed to see him, to have him any way possible, even if it meant ensuring you had safe phones and connections. Now, you were more into it, even going so far as having bought a tripod for your phone so your hands could be free - and he had one himself, one you had packed for him as a surprise.

When you got back to bed, propping up your phone on the tripod, you saw Mingi had indeed gotten comfortable himself: he was there, propped up by pillows, slowly stroking himself, fist loosely closed around his engorging erection. His eyes were closed, losing himself in the sensations, one leg straight on the hotel bed and the other slightly raised, bent knee, his other hand on his thigh, soft breaths coming out of his mouth. For a moment you just stood there, appreciating the view.

You could certainly just watch him for hours, especially when he lost himself like this; Mingi enjoying his own body was a sight you would never get tired of enjoying. “I see you’re getting started without me.”

“Isn’t this what you wanted to see, though?” He replied, not opening his eyes yet, making a point to slightly open them while moaning softly, and you felt yourself getting more aroused. It was as if he was putting up a show for you, and you didn’t doubt for a second that it was his intention. He knew how much you were affected by him, as much as he was affected by you. “Just lie back and enjoy the view, baby. Get yourself ready for me.”

And so you did, reclining on the bed, adjusting the phone so he could see you, but more importantly, so you could see him without any hindrance. He was watching you, carefully paying attention to how you focused on your own body, wishing it were him, his hands touching you, his lips caressing your skin, teeth playfully biting their way down your torso, letting your hand follow the usual path he did. Mingi seemed to copy your movements on his own, following your rhythm and touches, not hiding his noises from you. His gaze was penetrating from the other side of the screen, eyes never leaving yours as your hands reached their destination, and though you wanted to close your eyes in the sensation, you didn’t want to stop looking at him and his beautiful body.

“Come on, baby, turn it on and enjoy the show,” he winked and closed his fist around his fully erect cock, slowly stroking himself as he watched you using just enough lube to make the toy glide more easily, and he did the same, warming the gel in his hands before repeating the same movements from before, from base to tip, stopping to circle his head teasingly.

Mingi was all big, and it never failed to completely hypnotize you, the way his large hand encircled his erection, the way he knows his own body so well, moving his other hand to softly caress his balls, rolling them in his hand while the other kept the same relaxed and unrushed movements, stopping on the upstrokes to tease his most sensitive spot, one you knew so well and also enjoyed teasing. He waited for you; when you pressed the button on the toy for the second time, with the vibrations intensifying, he increased his tempo, moaning a little louder, his breath hitching every now and again in pleasure.

There were no other sounds besides both of your breathing and moaning; there was no need. With just one glance you could tell he was getting closer to the edge, his hand circling a little tighter now and faster, his legs and hips moving of their own accord, almost as if he was humping his hand, imitating the moves when he is with you, in the same bed, sharing the same breath. You usually like the vibrations a little softer, but there was a need deep inside you that demanded you to reach your peak with him, moving the vibrator so it was constantly pressing against that most pleasurable spot.

His breath got louder, moans turning into whining, Mingi almost begging, needing to feel you there with him, stroking himself harder, almost losing his rhythm, drowning in pleasure. His eyes focused on the phone, watching you succumb to the intensity of the moment, the orgasm taking over his body almost by surprise upon seeing you fall over the edge, wishing he was the one causing that - but he was, just not physically. When you heard his loud groan, your eyes searched for his in that small screen, watching him beautifully and subtly arching his back, his eyes closed, lips apart, hands moving much softer on his cock, trembling in aftershocks as he kept stroking through the orgasm, almost on the edge of overstimulation. Your vibrator had been thrown to the side, your body shivering and trembling, grabbing onto a pillow to ground yourself, the sight of him being overtaken with pleasure becoming ingrained in your mind.

There were a few minutes in which none of you spoke, basking in the sensation of fulfillment, until you broke the silence.

“So… do you still have the concert outfit?”

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thestrongestkikufuku · 2 days

Text

a little distraction

» synopsis - ⟡⋆˙ as you're watching your boyfriend work, your presence ends up distracting him.

» word count - ⟡⋆˙ 3.1k

» contents - ⟡⋆˙ lawliet x f!reader, fluff, established relationship, kissing, slight nsfw? (nothing too explicit), suggestive themes, making out, L being touchy 😳

» notes - ⟡⋆˙ woweee! hello everyone! welcome to the very first L fic on this acc 😮‍💨 i actually wrote a while ago but it has been dusting in my drafts but here it is! i watched death note back when i was a teenager and IMMEDIATELY fell in love with this man, and now he's back in my heart so i couldn't resist writing this 🤭 anyways hope y'all enjoy, happy reading!! (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

» m.list - ⟡⋆˙

Focused on his computer screen, L’s fingers tapped away in a steady rhythm. After some time, he caught sight of you sitting beside him from the corner of his eye. His typing slowed, and he turned to glance at you.

“Is there something you need, or are you here just to watch me work?” he asked in a quiet, monotone voice.

“Just watching,” you replied with an innocent smile. “You look cute when you’re focused.”

A small, low hum leaves L’s lips as you say that, his dark eyes returning to his laptop screen as he goes back to typing. However, a faint, almost invisible heat soon creeps onto his cheeks. A rare yet warm smile tugs on his lips from your compliment, which he almost always tried to hide with his usual, blank expression.

“…Do I now?” He mutters, quietly and monotonously as he continues to type.

“Are you blushing?” you teased, leaning forward with a playful smile, tilting your head to get a closer look at him. “Oh my god, you’re actually blushing.”

Another low, quiet hum leaves L’s throat as you lean forward to try and see his face, which only makes the heat on his cheeks worsen.

He feels suddenly embarrassed that you’d call him out, though it’s not the first time you’ve managed to do so and embarrass him. He’d never show his embarrassment, of course, so he merely continues with his work as if nothing happened.

“What a ridiculous implication…” He denies quietly, but his voice is wavering slightly.

“No need to be shy, L,” you joked, nudging his shoulder lightly with yours before settling back into your chair. “It’s only the two of us here.”

“Yes, yes... I’m aware,” he muttered quietly, relaxing a bit when you leaned back in your chair instead of hovering over him.

You hummed in response, your gaze shifting to the screen.

“Found anything yet?”

L glanced at you once more as you spoke, sighing at your question.

“Nothing of importance yet… It’s starting to feel like we’re chasing after a ghost at this rate…” He mutters with a tired huff.

A hint of a frustrated frown etched on his features. He hated this feeling of chasing a mystery, it annoyed him that he couldn’t find any important details for his work no matter what he did.

“Do you… Do you still think it’s... Light?”

A low hum escaped L’s throat once more, pondering your words before responding.

“Yes... I’m still quite convinced that it is him... But I can’t say for certain yet,” he murmured, a hint of uncertainty coloring his weary voice.

In his mind, however, there was no doubt that Light was Kira. Yet, convincing others without solid proof remained a challenge.

“Hmm.” Your gaze shifts back to your boyfriend, “I don’t know how you do it. I’d feel like my head would explode.”

L let out another small huff at your remark, feeling a slight amusement creeping in.

“I’m flattered that you hold me in such high regard,” he muttered sarcastically in his dull, tired voice, followed by a small yawn.

Despite his fatigue, he persisted in his diligent work, only pausing occasionally to stretch his back.

“It’s true!” You smiled softly. “I really do admire you, you know?”

Hearing you say that causes L’s hands to freeze on the keyboard for a moment, his dark eyes widened just ever-so slightly. He’s still not used to receiving such sincere compliments or any at all, it’s a rare occurrence to get a genuine compliment without any teasing attached.

After a while, he finally relaxes slightly as a soft, faint smile curls onto his lips, only lasting for a few seconds before returning to his work.

“I appreciate that… Thank you.” He mutters quietly.

You and L continued to sit in silence, broken only by the soft sound of his typing and the occasional click of his mouse. His fingers moved rhythmically across the keyboard, his eyes fixed attentively on the screen. Despite his focused demeanor, his stoic expression couldn’t hide the fatigue evident in the shadows under his eyes.

You silently admired the way he worked, observing his disheveled hair and slightly droopy eyes from exhaustion.

Though, as perceptive as ever, L sensed your gaze, but he attempted to disregard it, a faint warmth tinged his cheeks. Eventually, your persistent staring caused his hands to halt their typing altogether.

A quiet huff escaped his lips as he glanced briefly at you, a slight frown on his face.

“What are you staring at now?”

You didn’t reply immediately, your eyes fixed on him with a mixture of admiration and curiosity. His fingers continued their rhythmic dance across the keys, and despite the interruption, he remained focused on his task.

“Not staring,” you corrected him, a knowing smirk playing on your lips. “Admiring.”

L's expression softened imperceptibly at your words, though he tried to maintain his usual stoic demeanor, feeling a twinge of embarrassment. His dark eyes glanced downward briefly before returning to the screen, where he resumed typing.

“Well, I appreciate the interest,” he murmured, his voice still tinged with exhaustion. “But please, try not to distract me too much. I need to focus.” he continued, hoping his response would put an end to your staring, even though a part of him secretly enjoyed the attention.

“I know,” you replied softly, a small smile playing on your lips as you allowed him to immerse himself back into his work.

Though, it didn't take long before he asked. “Must you stare so intently?”

“Yes,” you answered bluntly.

He let out a quiet huff, meeting your gaze with a stern look.

“Well... If I’m that fascinating... Why don’t you come a bit closer?” His tone shifted subtly, a low chuckle accompanying his words. A rare mischievous smile crossed his lips as he watched your reaction with growing interest.

You beamed at his invitation, leaning closer, your eyes locked with his.

His small smirk widened as you moved nearer, sitting up slightly, a fluttering feeling stirring in his chest. Your faces were closer than usual, yet he made no move to pull away. In fact, his dark eyes briefly flickered down to your lips before meeting your gaze once more.

“Are you going to kiss me?” You whispered innocently.

A very faint huff of laughter leaves L’s lips at your question. “I thought that was quite obvious….” He says quietly and monotonously, his voice laced with a rare hint of teasing.

His dark eyes bore into your face for a moment before he leaned in swiftly, pressing his chapped lips against yours with unexpected tenderness. You sighed softly against his lips, savoring the feeling of his touch. L pressed closer, bridging the gap between you further as he continued kissing you, he’s initially hesitant but gradually relaxing into the gentle press against your lips.

Suddenly, the office doors slid open, startling you both. You quickly pulled away, eyes turning towards the doorway to see Matsuda standing there, eyes wide with surprise.

“I-I’m sorry—” he stammered, cheeks flushing pink.

A quiet huff escaped L’s lips, tinged heavily with annoyance at the interruption that had disrupted his rare moment of affection and intimacy. His dark eyes narrowed slightly as he refocused on Matsuda’s figure in the doorway, swiftly regaining his composure. His blank, cold demeanor returned almost instantly.

“This better be important.” He says with a quiet edge to his voice.

“O-Officer Yagami wanted me to give you these,” Matsuda explained hastily, making his way towards both of you and handing L a stack of papers.

He bowed slightly, clearing his throat awkwardly before straightening up. “I-I’ll get going now.” Matsuda shifted his eyes to you, offering you a bow as well. “Goodnight, Miss [last name].”

With that, he turned around and hurried out of the room.

L took the bunch of papers handed to him, glancing at its contents without a word. It only takes him a single glance at the papers for his eyes to light up in thought, immediately distracted by what he’s seen.

A quiet hum leaves his lip as he examines the documents in his hands before placing them on his desk. He’s suddenly distracted from his affection towards you, and now completely focused on the papers.

“These could have some promising leads…”

“What is it?” you asked curiously, trying to catch a glimpse of the papers.

L quickly lifted them, tilting them slightly so you could see. He continued scanning through the documents swiftly, his finger pointing out specific details on the pages.

“Information about Kira, his kill patterns, and the victims,” he explained, his tone quiet yet tinged with excitement. The fatigue and sleepiness that had been evident earlier seemed to fade away as he focused on the pages.

You nodded in understanding. “Ah…”

L's eyes moved rapidly across the text, absorbing each word. His hand absentmindedly ran through his black hair, his attention completely absorbed by the information. He was now fully engrossed in what he had discovered, having momentarily forgotten the affectionate moment you had shared just moments ago.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” you announced quietly, rising from your chair and stretching with a soft groan. “I’m tired.”

Upon hearing your words, L finally tore his gaze away from the papers and turned to look at you. He tilted his head slightly as he observed you standing up and stretching.

“So early?”

“Why? Want me around?” you retorted with a smirk playing on your lips.

L didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of surprise at your teasing.

After a pause, he finally spoke with a small huff. “No. You’re distracting me,” he muttered, returning his attention to the papers

“You weren’t exactly complaining when we were kissing,” you pointed out, your smirk widening, giving his cheek a small poke. “But as you wish. I’ll get going.”

A quiet ‘tch’ was the only response L offered to your teasing poke, though strangely, he didn't seem to mind it.

“Good... Don’t cause me another distraction,” he muttered quietly, his eyes fixed on the screen once more.

“Goodnight,” you said softly, leaning down to give him a chaste kiss on his cheek.

L paused for a moment as you approached, closing his tired eyes as your lips met his cheek. A faint blush tinged his cheeks, warmed by your simple gesture, though he tried to maintain his stoic expression.

“...Goodnight,” he murmured quietly.

As you turned to leave to retreat to his bedroom, L’s hand gently gripped your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. He stood up slowly, leaning his head against your shoulder, enveloping you in a tender hug.

It was an unexpectedly affectionate gesture from him. His breath brushed gently against your neck as his eyes fluttered shut, holding onto you in a rare moment of vulnerability.

“What’s wrong?” You asked quietly, concerned by his uncharacteristic display of emotion.

He doesn’t give any explanation or words in response. He simply clung to you silently, relishing the attention and affection.

“L..?”

Suddenly, he mumbled some quiet words, his voice soft and slightly embarrassed. “...Just stay with me a little longer... Don’t leave yet,” he murmured quietly, leaning back slowly.

“Oh…” a small smile tugged at your lips. “Of course.”

He watched you intently in silence for a moment before slowly sitting down and gently tugged you onto his lap.

“Come here for a moment…”

A surprised gasp escaped your lips at his sudden display of affection and clinginess.

“You’re so touchy today,” you teased, a surprised smile playing on your lips.

L doesn’t respond with words, only huffing quietly as his arms continue to cling onto you. Though, you feel him bury his head into your neck, his lips slightly grazing your skin as a slight blush appears again on his pale cheeks.

“I just feel… Somewhat affectionate today, is that a problem?” He mumbles against your skin somewhat monotonously, his hot breath brushing over your neck. Despite his dull, tired voice, you can hear the hint of embarrassment and shyness in his words

You chuckled softly at his remark. “Not a problem at all, just surprised,” you replied, your fingers gently brushing through his hair.

A very faint sigh leaves L’s lips when your hands thread through his dark, slightly messy hair, closing his eyes as he enjoys the soft sensation. His arms tighten around you just slightly, burying his head even more into your neck.

“Mm…” Is his only response, feeling incredibly comforted with your presence.

A small chuckle escapes your lips. “Weren’t you the one who said not to distract you?”

He doesn’t respond with words, but you feel him shift slightly, pulling himself away from your neck as he looks at you with a softness in his eyes that was rare and endearing.

“You’ve got work to do, remember?” you teased lightly.

L simply shook his head slightly, his voice gentle when he finally spoke.

“It can wait.” He muttered, gently pulling you closer. One of his hands slid under your shirt, resting against your skin, seeking the warmth and comfort of your touch.

You quirked a brow at him. “What are you doing?”

He looks up at you with an almost innocent glance, his hand slightly sliding down your side until he can gently grab your waist as he leans in close to you.

“...Touching you.” L mumbles plainly, as if it was an obvious answer.

You couldn’t help but smile at his straightforwardness, feeling the warmth of his hand against your skin.

“Just touching?” You teased, a small smile forming on your lips.

A small huff escaped L’s lips at your teasing, slightly embarrassed by his own affection and the swiftness of his actions. He looked up at you, his eyes peeking through messy black strands partially covering his face.

“Yes... Just touching…” he replied, his hand under your shirt slowly moving higher.

You hummed in response, your breath hitching as his fingers ghosted dangerously close to your chest.

A small, breathless laugh left L’s tired lips at your reaction, a subtle yet amused smile appearing as he looked at you quietly. His thumb brushed against your chest, caressing your skin softly while his other hand gently gripped your waist.

“...You like that?” he muttered quietly, his tone soft yet slightly amused.

When you nod subtly, he hums quietly in response, his eyes softening as he watches you with a surprisingly affectionate glance, as if enjoying your reaction to his touches. He lifts his other hand to your back, pulling you even closer to him. L notices the way your body reacts, slightly amused yet encouraged by how you swallow heavily when his breath brushes over your neck. He lifts his head from your shoulder slightly, bringing his lips closer to your neck, gently brushing them over your skin.

You let out a small sigh as he slowly and gently trails kisses along your neck.

“L…” you murmured under your breath, the sound encouraging him to continue. Gently pressing his lips against your neck, the way you say his name so breathlessly, yet so gently, makes him melt inside.

“Mm...?” L hums against your skin.

“W-What if someone comes back?” You stammer, a hint of concern lacing your voice.

“They won’t,” he murmured, his confidence and the way he kisses your neck sending a shiver down your spine. “Don’t worry.”

A small gasp escapes your throat, both at his remark and the sensation. “But—”

“But what?” L interrupted smoothly as he softly moved the collar of your shirt to the side, gently placing kisses along your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him.

“We can’t do this here—”

L pauses for a moment, going silent as you say that. Despite pausing for a brief moment, a small scoff escapes his lips as he looks up at you with a slight amused glance.

“…And why not?”

To the average man, it would be common to worry about how intimate and passionate moments can’t happen in public, which you were implying, but L… L honestly could care less…

“I…” Unsure of what to say, you remain silent.

“That’s what I thought…” L mumbles with a soft amused bite to his voice, bringing his lips back to your neck once more.

You inhale sharply at the contact of his lips on your neck once more, giving you no time to recover. Though succumbing to the feeling of pleasure would be nice, you can’t help but pick up the sounds of footsteps nearing. Panicking, you push him away, jumping off him.

The door slides open as Watari enters silently, pushing a small cart of sweets towards you both. L’s expression briefly shows disappointment as you push him away just as he was beginning to enjoy your attention.

“Ah, Watari... Welcome,” L mutters quietly, his voice carrying a slight monotone edge, turning his head to acknowledge him.

“Miss [last name], I wasn’t expecting you to stay the night. Is there anything you need? I can fetch it for you,” Watari asks softly as he stops the cart beside your boyfriend.

You wave your hands frantically while shaking your head. “U-Uh, no! Thank you, Watari. I was actually about to go to sleep.”

“Very well, just let me know if you need anything,” with a slight bow, Watari quietly exits the room.

L watches him depart. Then, he shifts his gaze back to you with a soft yet tired glance. Taking a small bite of his snack, he places his other free hand on the small of your back, gently urging you to come closer.

“Now that we’re alone... Why don’t you come back here?” he murmurs quietly, his voice low and intimate.

“No way, we’ve been interrupted twice already. Next time, we might not be so lucky, and someone could get traumatized.”

“Traumatized?” he echoed quietly, a hint of disappointment in his voice, accompanied by a soft huff leaving his lips. L gives the smallest eye-roll before returning to his snack, taking another small bite. “All we’re doing is kissing.”

“We weren’t just kissing.”

L goes silent for a moment, his eyes returning to you slowly.

“...We weren’t?” L mutters with a slightly sarcastic yet monotone voice, tilting his head to the side as if asking you to elaborate on what you said.

“You were literally groping me just now!” You retorted.

L gives a small scoff in response. “So? I didn’t hear you complaining,” he shrugged casually. “Besides, it’s only the two of us here, remember? Don’t act all shy now.” He echoed your earlier words to him.

Turning around, you wave a dismissive hand over your shoulder. “Whatever, I’m going to bed.”

L rolls his eyes slightly, reaching forward to pull the cart of sweets closer to him, grabbing something else to munch on. He watches your retreating figure and mutters to himself.

“...Tch. You tease.”

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jenchan-writingmultis · 1 day

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Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanons

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

A/n: I wanna emphasize further headcanons for Sylus cause he got me in a chokehold, NSFW isn’t a lot cause I couldn’t think of much. I hope you like this one! Also, when I was writing this, Rafayel was on my screen saying “Babe don’t move, I wanna see if I can see myself in the reflection of your eyes” I am so sorry baby boy.

Also, I apologize for the separated posts, I, once again, reached the Tumblr limit. <( •̀ᴖ•́)>

Pairing: Sylus x AFAB Reader Warning: Toxic! Relationship, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapping, Forced Drug Usage, Exhibitionism, BDSM, Sadistic! Sylus, Cussing, Blood, SYLUS! (He gets his own warning) If there are warnings that I didn’t notice, please let me know, thank you!

Masterlist Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanons (Part One)

Sylus SFW Headcanons (Part Two) ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ NSFW:

✄ He’s into manhandling. No matter what your size is, tall, short, chubby, or not, he will make sure that you know that even if you loom over him, you’ll be the one kneeling.

✄ He’s such a pussy man, he loves how pretty that part of you is, and while he finds you gorgeous in every way, he does have a certain infatuation with his girl down there.

✄ He’s the type to mating press you, he loves the way you whine about how your legs can’t hold out much longer, how you’re already sore, you think he’d give a shit? Your pussy is fluttering around his girth, he’ll stop when he gets to fill you up.

✄ He’s not really into cumming all over your body, he likes spilling it inside, the way your pussy twitches and tightens around his cock, that drives him wild.

✄ Sylus has demonic stamina, especially with how pent up he is, merely stalking you, watching you kiss other men, you think he wouldn’t bruise you up and make your body have the most mind-blowing orgasm? Spoiler alert! He would.

✄ While he has great control over himself, if you try to grind on him, or press your chest on his body, you’ll be bent over whatever counter was nearby and he’s going to breed you there. It’ll be unfortunate if you’re not into exhibitionism because he is.

✄ He doesn’t masturbate, he doesn’t see a need to, but if you insist on sucking him off, who’s he to say no? he’d let you roam your hands on his body if you’d like even.

✄ THIS MAN, IS INTO OVERSTIMULATION, he already loves seeing you cry, what more if it was cause you can’t cum anymore? Whether it’s on his mouth or dick, he’ll keep telling you that you can still cum. Heck, he’ll taunt you for it.

“Don’t tell me that’s all you can do? That’s disappointing, and here I thought that a renowned Hunter could take more.”

✄ He’s into BDSM. He already found you chained up arousing what more if he could tie you up further? Have your tits squished, and your stomach pressed on by ropes that could leave marks on your body? He loves that you’re sobbing cause of how tight it is, watch him fuck pleasure into your pain.

✄ Since he’s into BDSM, his favorite would be sensory deprivation, he likes covering your eyes, gagging you up, and making you guess which toy he’ll be using on you, it could be those round clit vibrators or the phallic-shaped ones. Either way, he uses all kinds of sex toys on you, as long as it gets you to sob underneath that blindfold, he’s satisfied.

✄ Not into quickies, he likes to edge you till you squirt on him, and he doesn’t like making you orgasm too fast, however, if he’s been too busy to give you attention when he wants to, he’ll have your recent outfit ripped off since he got a 20-minute break, and he needs some pent up energy to take out.

“It’s much better if you don’t wear anything whenever I go home pretty, taking off your outfit is troublesome.”

#lnds sylus #lnds x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace mc #loveanddeepspace #x reader #sylus smut #sylus x reader #l&ds sylus #sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds #sylus love and deepspace

58 notes · View notes

veronicaphoenix · 1 day

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Series: Into the Abyss of Bad Habits | masterpost Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader x Oliver Sykes

Hearts Like Ours. Additional multipart. Chapter 3: The Crow Witch | Words: 5k Summary: Noah returns home.

Tags and trigger warnings: established polyamorous relationship, no more angst, just a few happy tears, reader has her boys back, guided sexual meditation, mentions of chakras, firebreath orgasm, orgasmic bliss, a lot of 'good girl' praise, 'that's my girl', 'such a good girl', finger licking, one single spanking (oliver to noah), implied sub/dom relationship/behaviors if you squint (sub!reader, dom!noah, dom!oliver), implied p in v (not fully described), fluffy fluff.

Author’s note: get cozy 🕉️🧘🏽‍♀️ I loved writing this; it's definitely one of my favorite scenes with these three.

“What did you tell her?” Noah asked, fastening his seatbelt and glancing at Oliver as they pulled away from the airport arrivals area onto the highway.

“I didn’t lie to her. I took her to Starbucks, bought her a drink, and then told her to wait while I went to fetch something to cheer her up.”

“And she was ok with that?”

“Of course she wasn’t. But she ended up thinking I went to get a puppy for her to take care of while we’re on tour. Can’t say she’s entirely wrong,” Oliver replied, giving Noah a meaningful look.

Noah rolled his eyes, blushing slightly but smiling nonetheless. He was happy to be back, to be with him, to see her soon. Just then, the car’s screen lit up, indicating an incoming call from their girl.

“Speaking of the devil…” Oliver muttered. Before answering the call, he gestured to Noah to keep quiet. “Hi, love.”

“Hi,” came her reply, laced with suspicion.

“How’s that caramel latte treating you?”

“Good. Where are you?”

“On my way back,” he answered.

“Where did you go?”

“I told you, I went to pick something up to cheer you up.”

There was a brief pause as she listened intently for any background noise.

Oliver snorted.

“Are you expecting to hear a bark or something?”

“Yeah,” she chuckled softly, melting at the idea of Oli getting her a puppy.

“Well, sorry to disappoint, love, but I’m not giving anything away. Give me a bit more time, and I’ll come pick you up, alright?”

“Don’t worry. Just head straight home,” she said. “I’ll walk. It’s a beautiful day outside, and I think I need it,” she took a deep breath and Noah frowned, looking at Oliver with concern. “But I need you more, so please be home by the time I get back?”

If Oliver didn’t have to drop Noah off and return to fetch her, they’d have plenty of time to settle in at home before she made it back from the city center.

Sure, I’ll be there, baby,” he agreed. “Just give me a call if you want me to come get you.”

“It’s only a thirty-minute walk. I think I’ll manage,” she teased, her voice filled with contentment.

After expressing his love and ending the call, Oliver glanced at Noah, who was now running a hand through his hair.

“See? Everything just falls right into place without us having to lift a finger,” Oliver remarked.

“She’s going to be disappointed you’re not bringing home a dog,” Noah retorted.

“You do love a bit of drama, don’t you?”

“Just saying. She’s been talking about getting a dog for ages.”

“You’re her favorite puppy”, Oliver addressed, teasing him.

Noah shook his head and settled deeper into his seat. As he gazed out the window, relief washed over him knowing they were back in L.A. Soon, he’d be able to hold her close and comfort her. Glancing back at oliver, Noah reached out to tousle his hair, gently massaging the scalp at the back while Oliver kept his green eyes fixed on the road.

“Thank you for coming back for her,” Noah said sincerely, eyes full of appreciation.

“I’d do the same for you, anytime. I’d do anything for both of you.”

Thirty minutes later, Oliver and Noah found themselves lounging on the couch, Oliver’s arm draped over the backrest, almost encircling Noah’s shoulders. Oliver was sitting so that he could face Noah, and with his free hand he kept on touching the ends of Noah’s hair, longer than last time they’d been together.

They had been like this for ten minutes, catching up on their weeks apart, stealing kisses intermittently, and tenderly touching and massaging each other’s knees.

The jingle of keys outside and the creak of the front door opening made Noah’s heart jump on his chest. Oliver winked at him before letting him divert all his attention to his girl. A broad grin lit up Noah’s face, a smile he would have worn all day were it not for the reason why he was home a day earlier.

Struggling with the keys in the lock, she muttered a curse and silently resolved to oil it the next day. Her thoguhts, however, were quickly overtaken when her feet stumbled over a pile of luggage by the door.

In mere seconds, she deduced whose luggage it was and what it meant. Her heart leapt in her chest, and then, the voice she had yearned to hear for nearly thirty days filled the air, close and distinct.

By the time her gaze met Noah’s, he was already on his feet, halfway to the doorway, his tender smile beckoning her forward. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over when she finally found herself enveloped in his arms. His hug felt warm and secure, reminiscent of a cozy winter night by the fire. His lips pressed against her hair as he wisphered a few sweet, comforting words to her.

Noah was home. Noah was home and so was Oliver.

They had both come back for her.

An hour later, Oliver and Noah were back on the sofa, side by side. This time, shey lay across their laps, her head resting on Noah’s thigh while her torso sprawled across Oliver’s. Oliver had lifted her t-shirt slightly and was gently tracing circles on her back, while Noah lovingly stroked her hair.

The house was quiet. Three empty mugs sat on the coffee table, the faint scent of lavender tea lingering in the air. Despite this, her senses were overwhelmed by the masculine scents of her boys. She could have drifted off to sleep right there, her hand clutching Oliver’s t-shirt and her face nestled against Noah’s stomach.

“Are you tired?” Noah asked, his voice husky, a soft whisper in the vast expanse of the living room.

“No,” she replied, her eyes lifting to meet his, her eyelashes fluttering in a way that always captivated him. “Are you?”

“I’m fine,” he lied. He was exhausted. He wanted to stretch his legs, maybe walk for an hour or run for thirty minutes, then sleep for the next ten hours. But that could wait. His priority now was to be with her. “Are you hungry, sleepy, need anything?

She giggled at his barrage of questions, shaking her head no as she shifted on their laps to find a more comfortable position.

“That’s good,” Noah concluded. After a moment of silence and a shared look with Oliver, he added, “I have some plans that will probably take up the rest of the evening.”

“What plans?” She asked, a frown creasing her brow.

Noah’s finger traced the line of her lower lip. She nibbled at it, waiting for his response.

“Do you trust me?” He asked instead.

“Always,” she answered without hesitation.

“Good girl,” Noah praised softly, his voice warm with approval as he made her sit up, Oliver helping her with a hand on her back. When she twisted her head to look at Noah, her hair brushed against Oliver, and the scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils, making him yearn for her even when her body was practically pressed against his.

Noah stood up and extended his hand. She took it gleefully, allowing him to pull her to her feet. Before he could lead her to the center of the living room, Oliver, still on the sofa, wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back just an inch to press a kiss to her lower back, where her skin peeked. Then, he released her to Noah, who guided her to the sprawling carpet that covered the floor in the spacious living room.

Noah gestured for her to sit, and she complied, settling gracefully onto the soft surface, crossing her legs in front of her. She noticed Oliver walking to one of the cupboards next to the TV, gathering pillows and blankets and letting them drop on the floor close to her. Then, he bent down to open the small drawers, searching for something.

Noah mirrored her position on the carpet and exchanged a knowing glance with Oliver, who had quickly located the box of tealight candles and matches. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a shared secret that escaped her, as per usual, but that just added a layer of anticipation to the moment. She could feel her heart fluttering nervously, but this time, she welcomed the excitement, taking a deep breath to steady herself as she focused intently on Noah.

“You’re doing so well already,” Noah murmured, his smile tender as he reached out to gently touch her chin with two fingers and pulling her in for a kiss.

After the soft touch of his lips against her, she opened her eyes, her orbs colliding with Noah’s beautiful almond-shaped eyes. He wore a pleasant smile, looking tired but happy.

“What are we going to do?” She asked, her voice adjusting to the calm ambience in the house. Behind her, Oliver lit an incense stick and placed it in its holder. Then, he proceeded to light the candles, placing them strategically around the living room.

“We’re going to make you feel really good, and you don’t have to do anything but let us be nice to you.”

She took a deep breath, her mind racing with images, her smile growing, Noah mirroring hers as his fingers tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“That sounds… perfect.”

“It will be,” he assured, straigthening his back and inching closer to her so that their knees nearly touched. “From this moment on, just follow my instructions, okay? I know you can do that.”

She nodded, her posture adopting the familiar meditative stance she was used to. Normally, she meditated alone, but having Noah in front of her, seeking that break amidst real life and its brutality already felt rewarding.

“Good girl,” he whispered, this time his voice lowering to a tone that made her skin tingle with goosebumps. “Roll your head a couple of times, right and left. Now, can you focus on my breathing?” He asked, checking her stance and her attention. “I want you to follow my breathing. Once you’re on it, give it a few seconds then shift the focus to yours, yeah?”

She did as he instructed.

A moment later, a soothing, resonant sound filled the room—Oliver had played some music to set the ambience. She could sense his presence, though he remained at a respectful distance.

The soft chime of a Tibetan bowl echoed through the room, its sound lingering like a gentle caress. The candles around them cast a warm, flickering light, creating dancing shadows on the walls that swayed with their breaths. The faint, earthy scent of incense grounded her senses as she concentrated on Noah’s breathing.

Inhale. Pause. Exhale.

“Don’t push the breath out,” Noah reminded her. “Just let it fall out gently.”

Following his words, she matched his rhythm, feeling the air fill her lungs and then release it slowly. Each breath brought a deeper sense of calm, quieting her mind and easing her anxieties. The memory of the painful conversation with her mother loomed like a dark cloud in the back of her head, but focusing on Noah’s steady breaths, their synchronized breathing and the occasional soft crackle of the candles, helped soften the edges of her pain. With the boys home, the wound was momentarily soothed. Noah’s presence in front of her was a steady anchor, his breath a soothing guide that led her deeper into relaxation. She felt a sense of unity with him, with Oliver, a shared tranquility that transcended words, slowly chipping away at the hurt she had been carrying. The quiet rustling of blankets and pillows being set by Oliver around her just further grounded her in this safe, intimate space.

As she continued to breathe in harmony, she felt a wave of contentment settling inside of her. The world outside faded into insignificance, leaving only this safe, warm space. Her body felt light, almost weightless, as if she could float away on the waves of her breath. The simplicity of the moment, the quiet connection between her and her boys, filled her with a deep sense of gratitude and love. For the first time in days, the tight knot of sorrow in her chest began to unwind, replaced by the comforting presence of the two men.

“Baby,” Noah’s voice was barely a whisper.

She opened her eyes ever so slowly. Noah’s gaze was intent on her, unyelding.

“Take off your clothes now, but leave your underwear on.”

Without a word, she just nodded and stood up to comply with Noah’s instructions.

“Do it the right way,” he added. It was a command but his voice was gentle and full of love.

She understood.

Slowly, she undressed under the watchful eyes of Noah and Oliver. She folded her clothes neatly and placed them on the sofa cushions. She returned to sit in front of Noah, wearing only a a thin bra and panties.

This time, Noah got up and moved to sit behind her, his legs spread on either side of her. “Take a deep breath,” he whispered close to her ear. “Close your eyes. Focus your mind on your breathing. And feel me. I’m right here, baby, right behind you. Not going anywhere. That’s it,” he cheered, “goood.”

They stayed like that for a while, the silence interrupted only by their steady breathing and the occasional flicker of the candles. The incense’s scent grew stronger, blending with their body heat to create an almost tangible blanket of harmony. Oliver moved quietly around the room, his actions reflecting his care in setting the perfect ambiance. Each time he passed near, she felt a gentle, invisible caress, a reminder of the protective circle they formed around her.

Noah took her hand and slowly guided it to her chest, positioning it right over her heart. Brushing his cheek against hers, he whispered, “Can you feel it, baby?”

She focused on the rhythm beneath her fingertips, the steady thump-thump grounding her in the moment. The tension from the past few days, the anguish from her mother’s cruel words, began to ebb away with each breath. Noah’s warmth seeped into her skin, his voice a calming anchor.

“Yes,” she breathed. The word seemed to hang in the air, merging with the soft music Oliver had started in the background. It was a gentle melody, almost like an hypnotic lullaby, weaving through the room and wrapping around them like a soft embrace.

“Good,” Noah murmured. “Now, keep breathing, keep feeling. Remember, we’re here for you. We’re not going anywhere.”

Oliver came to sit near them. He didn’t speak, but the look in his eyes conveyed everything she would need to know: she was safe, cherished, and never alone. She took another deep breath, feeling the collective energy in the room—a harmonious blend of love, comfort, and peace.

With Noah’s breath at her back and Oliver’s steady presence beside her, she felt a deep sense of release coming, the heavy burden of her recent pain lifting, replaced by the simple yet profound act of being fully present in the moment, surrounded by her boys.

But when Noah’s cupped her breast and slid down to lay over her stomach, his fingers then slipping inside her panties, her breath caught.

“Breathe,” he ordered, reminding her to stay focused.

She tried, but it was suddenly difficult with his fingers massaging her between her legs. His touch was gentle yet purposeful, sending waves of sensation through her body.

“Hold your orgasm, baby. This is not about coming. It’s about the connection and the journey together to get there. Of all the millions of people that can give you sexual pleasure, only Oli and I can connect to your mind, ease your vulnerabilities, and empower everything that you are.”

He noticed her chest rising.

“So, be good and do as I say. Trust your mind. You know you can do it.”

She was so lost in the intensity of his touch that she wasn’t aware of the second presence looming so over her until Oliver’s lips pressed softly against her own. Startled, she opened her eyes to find him sitting in front of them, his gaze warm and inviting.

Oliver took Noah’s hand away from between her legs, and in a moment that seemed to stretch time, he guided Noah’s long fingers to his mouth. Her pupils dilated at the sight of Oliver tasting her from Noah’s fingers, his green eyes locked on her as his tongue dragged along Noah’s wet digits. The eroticism of the scene was almost too much to bear, but the calm, grounding presence of both men kept her anchored.

“We’re going to need you to lay down for us now, doll,” Oliver said softly.

She was mesmerized, her body responding to their every command without hesitation. She barely noticed Noah unclasping her bra, standing up to place it on top of her pile of clothes before joining her again on the carpet. Oliver repeated the instruction to lay down, his voice a soothing command. She did so, feeling the plush softness of the blankets that Oliver had strategically placed on the floor.

“Hips up,” Oliver commanded next. She complied, and he gently removed her panties, leaving her completely exposed. The vulnerability of her position contrasted sharply with the overwhelming sense of safety and connection she felt. She closed her eyes again, focusing on the warmth of their presence, the scent of the candles, and the gentle music filling the room.

Noah positioned himself at her side. Now she had noah on the left and Oliver on the right, protecting her from every evil in the world. “Keep breathing, baby,” Noah said, his breath hot against her ear. “Feel everything.”

Oliver leaned over her, his fingers tracing light patterns along her skin, sending shivers down her spine. His touch was deliberate, exploring every curve and contour with reverence. “You’re doing so well,” he murmured, his voice a low, soothing hum. “Just let go and feel us here with you.”

She could feel the energy between them, a tangible connection that pulsed with every beat of her heart. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the three of them entwined in this intimate dance of trust and desire. Each touch, each whispered word, drew her deeper into the moment, dissolving the pain of the past few days and replacing it with a profound sense of peace and belonging.

Noah’s hands slowly roamed down her body, caressing her sides and tracing her curves with a feather-light touch that sent sparks of pleasure coursing through her. Oliver’s lips followed the path of his fingers, leaving a trail of kisses along her neck and collarbone. She felt Noah’s breath on her skin, hot and tantalizing, as his hands explored her thighs, gently parting them to allow Oliver better access.

Oliver’s mouth moved lower, his tongue flicking out to tease her nipples, drawing soft moans from her lips. The sensation was exquisite, a perfect blend of tenderness and intensity that left her breathless. She arched her back, pressing into his touch, craving more of the delicious friction.

“Feel us,” Noah whispered, his voice a seductive murmur that sent shivers down her spine. “Every touch, every breath. You’re the only thing that matters to us.”

Oliver’s hand slid between her legs, his fingers slipping through her wetness with ease. He circled her clit slowly, deliberately, coaxing her pleasure higher and higher while Noah’s hands continued to roam, adding to the sensory overload.

“Remember, baby,” Noah’s voice was a soothing command, “This is about the connection. Hold your orgasm and just feel the journey we’re on together. We’ll tell you when to come.”

She was on the edge, her body trembling with the effort to hold back. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious torment that left her gasping for breath. Oliver’s fingers moved with expert precision, bringing her closer and closer to the brink while Noah’s touch and words kept her grounded in the moment.

Time lost its meaning as they continued, every movement and sensation blending into a seamless flow of pleasure and connection. She was no longer just herself but a part of something greater, something beautiful and transcendent. The world outside might be filled with heartbreak and angst, but here, in this sacred space, she found solace in their touch, their presence, and the love they offered.

“Kitten,” Noah called out again. She didn’t open her eyes; just waited for the instruction. “Get your knees up and feet flat on the ground. Good. Spine straight. That’s it.”

Oliver’s “such a good girl” seeped into her skin and made it hard to swallow.

“Inhale,” Noah continued, his voice steady. “Let your belly fill up, and as you exhale, flatten your lower back to the ground, like I taught you.”

The rocking motion helped to move the sexual energy in her, and Oliver and Noah knew it very well. They knew what they were doing, with every word, every touch, every kiss.

“Use your mind and breath to pull energy into your root chakra, baby. Remember its name?”

She furrowed her brows, hesitanting for a moment.

“Muladhara,” she answered.

Even though her eyes were close, she could tell Noah was smiling at her correct answer.

“That’s my girl,” he praised her. “Keep sending your energy to your lower belly.”

“Do you feel charged up, love?” Oliver asked from her other side.

“Yes,” she replied, her voice steadier.

“You’re doing so well,” Noah approved. “When you feel charged enough, reduce the energy again until its focus is between your legs. Oli and I will help you, don’t worry.”

The energy moved through her chakras on its own, circulating back and forth in a rhytmic cycle. When Oliver touched her forehead, he signaled her to concentrate her energy in that area for a couple of minutes. Then, Noah placed his hand on her mound, covering her lower belly and pussy with the expanse of his hand. The surge of energy from her mind to her core felt like a tidal wave, propelling her into a highger state, a higher ecstasy. The energy flowed effortlessly, and she felt herself rapidly ascending into an orgasmic state.

The orgasm released all the pent-up tension and expanded the energy flowing through her body and mind, connecting to her spirit. For about ten seconds, her back arched, a long moan stretching, joining the musical sounds filling the room. Oliver struggled to contain the wave of desire that surged through him, that proppeled him to fall over the edge. His cock throbbed in his pants. Noah wasn’t in a much different state, though he had more training when it came to holding his orgasms.

When it was over, she couldn’t speak. She was certain she hadn’t just orgasmed physically but also mentally. She barely registered the lustful gazes of the two men at her sides, their restrained desire and lust evident in throbbing bulges in their pants and popping veins in their necks. They looked like predators ready to pounce on her and devour her.

Her ears were still ringing from the abyssal orgasm she had experienced when Oliver’s voice reverberated inside her head as he whispered, breathless himself, “This is how Gods build their kingdoms.”

He couldn’t be lying, for whatever had just happened felt like a cosmic experience.

“We’ve never done that before,” she managed to say, still feeling like she was floating.

Noah laughed, his laugh sweet and satisfied. He felt some tension ease as he senses her own serenity spreading to him.

Oliver was the one to reply, adjusting his position to relieve some discomfort. “Pretty boy loves spending his free time reading all kinds of things, doesn’t he? And here we are, the three of us benefiting from all that knowledge.”

“But what about you?” she asked, concern in her voice.

Noah started to shake his head, disapproving of her newfound and unnecesary worry.

“Well,” Oliver began. His left hand cupped her right breast and massaged it teasingly, squeezing on the right places. “We can spend the whole evening making love to you,” he suggested, his voice cheeky, “taking turns inside of you until you’re so sated and full of ourselves that you drift off to sleep in our arms and forget that we’ve been away from you for so long. Do you want that, baby?”

The beating of her heart sped up again.

Of course she did.

Some three hours later, feeling satiated (from dinner and from them), she sat in the center of the bed, legs crossed in the lotus position, eagerly awaitng Noah and Oliver to emerge from the bathroom.

Earlier that evening, after experiencing two more climaxes and Noah and Oliver finding their own release, the three of them had lain on the carpet, catching their breath amidst a haze of warmth, sweat, and lingering incense. Noah, before rising, ensured his plan had worked, turning to his girl with tender kisses and affectionate touches. Grateful and overwhelmed with happiness, she thanked both her boys, fighting back tears.

The moments that followed were perfect, marked by the contentment of their bodies and souls, and the slow return to calm after their hearts raced in unison.

As night fell, a nervous energy tinged her behaviour, and Noah and Oliver were quick to notice as they emerged shirtless from the bathroom, clad only in boxers.

Noah playfully crawled onto the bed, nudging her until they tumbled onto the mattress, giggles filling the room and lifting Oliver’s spirits higher as he joined them on the other side of the bed.

“What’s on your mind?” Noah inquired, concern furrowing his brow, his fingertips playing notes at her clavicle. “Still thinking about your mother?”

Shaking her head, she gazed into his warm brown eyes, appreciating every detail; the very unique curve of them, the length of his lashes.

“Is it the wedding, then?” He persisted, his embrace tightening reassuringly around her as Oliver pressed a lingering kiss to the side of her head. “You know nothing can stop us from getting married; not the government and its laws, not religion, not anyone. Nothing. We—”

“It’s not that,” she interrupted gently, cherishing the weight of Noah against her. “I know nothing going to ruin that. I can’t wait to go shopping with Sylvie and try on dresses…” Oliver pressed against her, sandwiching her between his and Noah’s body. When she made mention of the dress, Oliver had a huge grin planted on his face, and unable to contain himself, he dipped his head into her neck to nibble on her shoulder and rip a giggle out of her. A few moments later, her hand stroking Oliver’s long hair, she acknowledged, “I don't want you to leave.”

But there was no way around it. Oliver had an early plane to catch, and he had to be at the airport by 6am.

By midnight, Noah was sound asleep on his side of the bed, while Oliver lay in the same condition at the other end, one hand resting on his bare chest. Despite her efforts to find a comfortable position and try to catch some sleep, she couldn’t shake the sadness knowing Oliver would soon be leaving again. Even though they would reunite again in less than a week, the emotional and unexpected reunion had deepened her bond with her two boys, making it harder to be okay with the inevitable distance.

She didn’t want to spend a single day without them.

She wanted every day to repeat as that very afternoon had unfolded, with Noah and Oliver taking turns inside her, their naked bodies pressed against hers, their sweat mingling, their wet kisses trailing across her skin. Every sigh, every moan, every look and touch—she yearned for it all. She wanted to live in the intensity of their gazes when they moved inside her and when they orgasmed, she wanted their laughter, their playfulness, how it affected their expressions, the same ones she wanted to capture forever—like Noah’s focused stare as he moved slowly in and out of her at a deadly tempo, never breaking eye contact until Oliver spanked him, provoking Noah to cock his head and throw him a sharp look and say, “Can you not? I was having a moment with her.”

That had made her laugh, only spurring Oliver on, his smile filled with fascination and pride as he reached between Noah and her to fiddle with her nipple. Annoyed, Noah had shifted from caressing her to ramming her, and she had ended up reaching her climax around Noah’s cock amid moans and giggles. It had been momentous. The sex they’d had that afternoon between the three of them had been more than that. It had been energy that existed on its own, the exchange of it between the three of them. There was nothing more wonderful.

However, the feeling of floating in paradise only lasted for so long. It was not permanent. It came and went. And it was Oliver’s time to leave.

At ten to five in the morning, the three of them stood in the entrance: Noah in his underwear, she in a T-shirt and panties, and Oliver dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, his backpack slung over his shoulder. She hugged him tightly, determined not to cry like a little girl. Oliver kissed her long and hard, assuring her that with Noah back, they would make time fly until he returned.

“As soon as I’m back next week, we can start looking for wedding venues,” he promised, kissing her hand where her engagement ring sat.

She smile was filled with sadness.

“I love you so much,” he told her.

“And I love you,” she replied, throwing her arms around his neck once more and kissing him dramatically, as if it were their last time seeing each other. She would forever be grateful for him and the other man standing beside her.

Reluctantly, she stepped back, wanting to prolong their goodbye but aware that Noah, who had just returned, also needed his moment. Her fingers brushed Oliver’s before letting go, allowing Noah to bid farewell.

After their parting kiss, Noah instructed him to call before boarding the plane.

“You’ll be fast asleep; doubt you’ll pick up," Oliver chuckled. Noah growled, grabbing Oliver’s sweatshirt collar and pulling him close again. “Just call me,” Noah demanded, before pressing his mouth to his again and biting on his lower lip.

Five minutes later, Oliver’s Range Rover disappeared into the darkness that still flooded the neighborhood, and Noah closed the front door behind him to find a pitiful little face staring helplessly at him.

“Back to bed for cuddles?” he suggested, arms wide open for her.

She nodded with a pout, looking all adorable. With a small leap, Noah scooped her up, her legs finding their place around his waist and arms around his neck. Nestling her head into his neck, she heard him mutter something as they ascended the stairs.

“What was that?”

“I said that instead of ‘kitten’ I’m going to start calling you ‘koala’.”

Chuckling into his shoulder, she let Noah guide them back to bed. Despite the mattress still holding Oliver’s scent and shape, Noah hugged her close, offering her shelter against his chest. She snuggled, finding comfort in the Crow Witch tattoo on Noah’s arm, pressing her cheek to the drawing, letting herself believe that Noah’s arms were wings that would forever envelop her in a promise of adoration and protection.

Trying not to think that Oliver was gone, she focused on Noah’s gentle caresses and the kiss he placed on her head. The last thing she heard before sleep claimed her was his whispered, “I love you.”

#noah sebastian #oliver sykes #bmth #bad omens #noah sebastian x reader #oliver sykes x reader #noah sebastian x oliver sykes #noah sebastian x oliver sykes x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #oliver sykes fanfiction #into the abyss of bad habits

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littleplantfreak · 3 days

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Roadtrip headcanons

I had these in a draft for two weeks until @the-bofurin-digest started talkin about how amazing Togame would be on a roadtrip so I'm dedicating them to you ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ (I was gonna let them rot in my wip docs before i saw the post)

Umemiya Hajime

- It depends on the trip but most likely he's prepared everything to a T. If something doesn't pan out in regards to travel time or itinerary he's the type to take it in stride and just enjoy being with everyone.

-Starts up conversations with random people at rest stops/destinations they visit and has to be dragged away because dude we've been here for half an hour and all they have are vending machines.

- Not so secretly likes being a passenger princess. I mean he'll drive no sweat but he loves watching everything passing by the window or turning around to make conversation with everyone. He will help the driver with anything they need tho whether it's a change in station, drinks, or navigation.

-Has the most insane ideas/questions for in-car games. No Sakura doesn't know what he'd do if Ume turned into a worm, but now he has dreams about it.

-If he's not driving he usually knocks out immediately on the way back home. (watch out he drools)

Hiragi Toma

-Please don't let Umemiya sit up front while he drives. In fact, put him in a whole other car (depending on how many of them go that may actually be plausible.)

-Super reliable driver, though if he claims he has a handle on his road rage, he does not. It doesn't affect how he drives nor is he usually yelling, but you can see his shoulders become increasingly tense the more bad drivers he spots. Needs to be fed medicine occasionally for his stomach.

-Not a snacker in the car but he won't turn down a coffee.

-He's good with directions, so whoever rides with him is in no danger of getting lost. Also no soldier is left behind when Hiragi is in charge and he check frequently after every rest/bathroom stop to make sure everyone and everything are in the car. -If the trip is to the beach or some other place where he can relax, he'll definitely take a power nap esp if they left home early.

-Plays his music on the way back home when everyone is sleeping.

Tsubaki Tasuku

-It's a great time no matter where Tsubaki is in the car. She drives and sings or sits passenger and sings. It's impressive how many songs she knows by heart actually. Chalk it partially up to her close relationship with Shizuka.

-When she's not singing, she has a thousand different stories to tell, so no one ever really gets bored. Opts for silence only when necessary, however if she's driving, she really would prefer someone talks to her.

-Kotoha's her go-to passenger in the front, but if she's not there/in a different car she'll just choose anyone not prone to sleeping the whole trip.

-Has a preference for cookies or sweets as an in-car snack.

Kaji Ren

-Sticks with his lollipops as a snack in the car.

-Not a fan of driving even when he has his license. Passenger or back seat for him please.

-Brings CDs and lets people use them but keeps his own headphones in most of the time, which is fine because he's not one for just talking about whatever for hours in the car.

-He curls into his hoodie when he passes out either to or from wherever the trip is. Even if the driver hits a pothole and his head bounces off the window, he stays knocked out, which is both concerning and hilarious.

Sakura Haruka

-Gets motion sick if he's not in the front, either as the driver when he's older or as the passenger. Unfortunately did not know this until the trip started and struggled to hold it in before making everyone stop by the side of the road while he dry heaved.

-If he's at driving age, he's actually a relaxed driver after the first few months of him getting his license. Prefers country driving to city no question though. It ends up being therapeutic for him to take long drives when he's older.

-Don't ask him to use the fancy new car radios that only have the screen, he'll end up with the heat on somehow in the middle of summer instead of changing the station. It's funny to watch him try and work it out until everyone's sweating buckets.

-Perks up if he sees a good food place and remembers it so they can stop there on the way back. Eats whatever he can grab in the car so long as he isn't sick.

#sakura dramamine be upon ye #wind breaker #wind breaker headcanons #umemiya hajime #hiragi toma #sakura haruka #kaji ren #tsubakino tasuku #its not everyone but its a few i dont write for often!!#thanks again Ang!

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ladydreamfyre · 9 hours

Note

According to the leaks I saw from episodes 5 to 8, Helaena will get closer to Aemond. And Phia and Tom had to beg/fight to get those miserable Helaegon scenes. I saw a rumor that I really hope is false, that Helaena and Aemond will communicate in Valyrian, Da*myra vibes. I honestly don't know what to think... They're killing the greens. If this is real, maybe Maelor is Aemond's son and that will be the push I needed to stop watching this poorly made fanfic.

Yeah, I saw these leaks too. Listen, there were a moment during first season when I shipped Helaena and Aemond. Only because that one scene when young Aemond said he would marry Helaena if Alicent betrothed them. And because I didn't like how they wrote young Aegon. But before that I was really interested in how they portray marriage-siblings of Aegon and Helaena. I didn't really ship them then, but I was curious how they gonna portray the first real Targaryen marriage on screen. But then, as I said in the beginning, I jumped onto that Helaemond ship. But when I saw older Aegon on screen, I started seeing him as more complex human. Mostly because of Tom's acting. So, slowly I started to forget about Helaemond and then eventually came back to my first kind of ship of Helaena and Aegon. And I was really excited for season 2 just to see them interact of any kind of way and in any relationship, no matter if in married couple way or just siblings way...

And yeah, we had 2 scenes of them. Wow. And for one of these scenes they had to beg. I love Phia and Tom, I love them truly for defending Aegon and Helaena relationship and fighting for it, FIGHTING TO SHOW IT. The creators had one big opportunity to show us a spectrum of Targaryen siblings marriage, where too sides didn't want it at all. I mean, can we stop idealize these kind of marriage in this lore? I know all of these love stories about Targaryen siblings love, but I don't buy it. And then we have Aegon and Helaena in the most realistic that kind of marriage, where they were forced to do it, and get nothing. NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING.

I don't expect them to show us fifty scenes of Helaena and Aegon together in every episode. No, really not. I know they have complicated relationship. But I expect them to show us this relationship properly. It can be just one scene in every episode, but a good scene when we can have insight to this relationship. Is it that hard to show? Is it that hard to write?

Listen, listen! I am afraid... I am afraid they going into Helaemond because of the fans who created Helaemond. You know what I mean? If it's true... WE CREATED A MONSTER.

And yes, this will be fall of The Greens. I want Maelor to be Aegon's son. If they will try to change it, I think it will be better if Maelor wouldn't exist at all in this show lore. I am afraid they will destroy Daeron too...

Yes, You are RIGHT. This is a poorly made fanfic. And let be honest, The Greens have spectacular actors and only because of them, we The Greens audience still watch it.

And yet we still have a hope. But for what, exactly?

(Sorry for my English, I hope you will understand my message.)

#house of the dragon #helaena targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #hotd season 2 #aegon x helaena #helaegon #aemond targaryen #aemond x helaena #helaemond

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mx-pastelwriting · 2 days

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Little Long

Copia (Papa Emeritus IV) x GN! Reader

Summary: Cutting Copia’s hair after a long tour.

Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship, Copia being his cute self, Reader cuts hair, Haircut, Mention of Sexual Attraction (At End)

Minors do not interact!

Drawing circles on the red fabric of Copia's tracksuit, having gotten him back from weeks of touring minutes ago. Having said little to you as he made way into the closet to change, seconds later sporting his comfy red tracksuit.

Cuddled against his chest, watching the game on the screen play as Copia controlled the character, whispered curses sound out from his lips as the noise of damaged hits killed the character.

Looking up at your papa, seeing the focus in his eyes that purple bags hang from, outlining the rest of his cleaned face, leading your attention to the length of hair. Softly running fingers through the messed hair, finding small tangles within the grayed brown, turning the papa's attention, allowing the two-toned pair of frustrated eyes meet yours.

Eyes softening at the sight of you still playing with the long length of hair, "What? Do I have something in my hair?" laughing at his rambling questions of worry. "No, it's just long," you respond, making him look and feel for himself.

"I guess it is," Saying before looking back at you. "Do you want me to trim it?" you offer, finally looking at him. Laughing at the confession on his face, "You know how to cut hair?" he asks, but you do not answer, only sitting up moving off the bed.

"Come on," saying as you grab a spare chair before moving into the bathroom, going through the drawers finding a perfect pair of scissors.

Looking at the door frame that Copia stood in cutely, "Going to have to wet your hair, so take off your jacket and shirt," you inform, turning on the shower.

"If you just wanted me naked, you could have just said so," saying as he unzipped the top of his red tracksuit, looking laughing flushed, leaving him to undress.

Turning back, taking in his bare chest only for a moment before helping lean him under the water, quickly soaking his hair, then grabbing a nearby towel. Shutting off the water, moving over to the chair, quickly drying his hair to finally work away at the long length.

Removing the towel reveals the crazy style of hair, making you both laugh. Grabbing the comb and scissors before taming the beast of hair. Working slowly to get the best results, thinking of what sister would do if you fucked up.

Shaking off the pressure as you ruffled the cut hair, seeing as it blended nicely, the cut ends landing on his bare shoulders. Unaware of the eyes that watched you pleased with the work, having yet to meet the watchful eyes while finishing up.

Resting upon his shoulder, looking in the mirror, taking in your work, gladly meeting the watching eyes with a smile. "All done, handsome," you compliment, running fingers through the freshly cut hair.

As Copia played with the new length, you broke away, starting the shower once more, undressing as the water warmed, shocking the papa. Peering over at him, picking up his eyes that were once glued to your body. "I want you naked, papa?" needing no more sinful word, the papa fumbles out of the chair to join you.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @littlebitchsposts @urlocalfanficwriter

#copia x reader #cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus iv

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gemmahale · 2 days

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WIP Wednesday (6/26/2024)

Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare Reboot

Working Title: Don't Go Down Easy, Sunshine (Part 1 of Museum Muse)

Pairing: John 'Soap' MacTavish x OFC Darlene 'Daisy' Houghton

Rating: E (Canon compliant violence, blood, language, kink and BDSM, sex)

Part 1 Synopsis: Fix-it for the tragedy that is the end of MWIII. (This can stand alone, but sets everything up for the later story.)

Story Synopsis: An online friendship blossoms between KelpieTinker96 and IrisOfTheLake when they keep finding themselves active in the same online forums - especially a few spicy ones. Shy flirts become outright come-ons, and a tentative relationship blooms.

On the other side of the screen, John MacTavish (KelpieTinker96) is adjusting to a major shift in his work-life balance after a life-saving surgery. The 141 continues mopping up the mess left behind by the Russian Ultranationalists that followed Makarov. Soap's indefinitely benched, stuck working intel with Laswell until further notice. His therapist suggests art classes to keep himself sane and find an outlet for his pent-up energy.

Darlene Houghton (IrisOfTheLake) is struggling with the mundane life of a museum curator, looking for something more. When Terry invites Daisy to pose as the nude model for their "Bodies in Art" live drawing class, she tentatively agrees. She's taken by the handsome Scot that limps into the studio. He's kind and supportive and makes her feel the same way Tinker makes Iris feel - desired and cherished.

Tinker and Iris eventually decide to meet at a coffee shop in person - but can their relationship survive the shift to IRL? Or are they in for the biggest surprise of their life when face to face with reality?

AKA: I fix the bullshit in the tunnel (yes, I'm pulling dialogue from the scene). Soap's healing post-mission is rough. Daisy's in dire need of some lovin'. Both learn to be loved their own ways through art and kink. (yes, puppy play happens 😉)

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Soap follows his Captain to the large yellow door that marks the entrance to the service tunnel. The warring emotions inside his heart solidify, compressing into next to nothing as he focuses on the work ahead. The grip of his pistol feels familiar in his hands, his mind stilling as he listens for Price’s commands. The beast inside of him roars.

“Bravo-6 to Watcher, we are on the X. Going for Makarov.” Price grins at Soap, blue eyes glinting in the light.

“Solid copy. Go get him, John.”

Soap can’t still his tongue as Price reaches for the door handle. “This bastard won’t go down easy, Sir.”

Price studies Soap’s face, dropping his guard for a moment. Soap sees the anger, the rage, the simmering emotions he’s shoved away for now clearly reflected in his Captain’s face. He knows he’s not alone in this - they share the same burden.

Makarov needs to die.

“Neither will we, Sunshine.” Those emotions disappear from Price’s face, replaced by stone-cold logic and determination. He pats Soap on the shoulder twice, shifting his rifle in his arms. “A’ight. Come on.”

The yellow door swings open, a yawning maw to what Soap knows is going to be a bloodbath. Hopefully it means the end of this terroristic regime Makarov is seeking to build. The bloodthirsty, revenge-seeking monster surges out of his chest, intent on settling the score.

“On you, sir.”

#gemma writes fanfic #gemma talks wips #wip wednesday #Museum Muse WIP #fix it fic

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barzzal · 2 hours

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call me crosby → part six

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: parenting, tantrums, and a tad bit of angst genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 5.2k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist

note: REALLY hoping i get to finish this while on my uni break. This was supposed to be posted on father's day but ya girl was on a trip i had to make most of it yk! Also, do note that the italicized part is a quick flashback. Anyway, happy reading! <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.

Two words. Terrible twos.

It was one of the things your mom has told you about raising a child of your own. It was a stage full of tantrums and frustrations; one you’ve never dealt with before. You were told that it was overwhelming, that you have to prepare yourself mentally and physically for it. However, your son, as the marvel child that he is, was so good at that age that you need not have to worry about it.

Well, not until a few years later.

“Mommy, please!” Luke wails in frustration from the living room.

He has been asking for a little more screen time watching his show instead of doing his homework. And be that as it may, he has been adamant about not getting what he wanted.

This has been going on for a couple of weeks, following Luke’s realization of not getting to play much of hockey. Frankly, as well as not seeing much of Sidney.

“Honey, you’ve been watching for almost two hours. That’s enough.” you say, massaging your temple as you walk towards where he is, trying not to lose your temper.

You and your son have always been in sync. You have not really had the chance to reprimand or give him a good scolding. Lucas is a fairly calm child right from the beginning. To say the least, dealing with his temper tantrums now is a lot harder than you’ve prepared for.

You see him sitting on the couch holding the remote tightly. His cheeks are still evidently damp from all the crying. You know he’s bound to strain his voice just by looking at him.

“Two hours is not enough!” he appeals. Just like you thought, his voice is now nearly gone from all the screaming. “Please, I want my TV!”

It is during times like this where you have to try harder as a mother. You know it will not always be rainbows with Luke. But despite your efforts to ensure that he would be able to express himself when you greatly need it, you can’t blame a child for not knowing exactly how he feels nor the reason for it. You just wish he’d be able to let you know even just a little. At least then, you could make it all better.

“Baby,” you endearingly call for him as you approach.

With a soft smile on your face, you caress his hair. Your hands then fall to his cheeks so as to wipe his tears away.

“You’ve already watched a lot of episodes today...” you carefully work your way in; gently reminding him of his acquired screen time.

Frustratingly, Luke’s voice breaks as he tries to tell you he wasn’t going to watch any more episodes of Paw Patrol and the new Lego Spiderman.

“Then what were you trying to watch?” you ask him with the same nurturing voice.

You see Luke shoot a glance over the screen that you’ve already turned off half an hour ago.

Yes, this has been going on for that long.

“Mkay, you may turn it on so you can show me.”

There comes a glint of hope in his eyes the moment he hears you. You fight the urge to chuckle, finding it quite adorable.

Luke, now standing on his feet, finds the red power button and points it towards the television. Once it’s turned on, the thumbnail of a show greets you; one that you least expected– one that you clearly were not ready for.

“So tell us guys, how can we make hockey more fun?” said the last voice you wanted to hear.

Sid and Nathan in their respective jersey’s for a commercial a few years back comes into view. You know that it was one of his brand commitments that he still does to this day. You were just not aware that Tim Horton’s apparently had this particular video uploaded for everyone to see.

As you watch the clip turn over to a handful of kids skating towards the two famed athletes, you make the mistake of taking the remote from your son to pause the short youtube clip quite hastily. You inevitably surprise him with your reaction thereby scaring him.

Upon deducing that you were upset by the show that he has chosen, Luke begins to cry even harder than before.

Alarmed, you put away the remote and reached for him. You let him fall in your arms whilst he buried his face in your chest.

“I’m sorry, baby. Mommy didn’t mean that.” you try to convince him, caressing his head. You feel disgusted with yourself because you know this is not the way you wanted this moment to unfold.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mommy.” Luke says in between his sobbing. He hugs you tighter whilst in a heaping mess.

“Hush, it’s okay.” you comfort him. “I’m sorry too.”

You let him cry himself out. It may be heartbreaking for you, but you couldn’t think of any other way to help your seemingly helpless child. The only thing you could offer him is the assurance that you will always be by his side when he needs you.

You know that the overwhelming surge of emotion he’s feeling now is quite new for him. Dealing with his outburst may be tough on your end, but you can’t even imagine how much harder it must have been for a child to be utterly clueless as to why he is crying.

Swiftly, just like you used to do when he was a baby, you sway your body whilst Luke stays in your embrace. Once Luke’s breathing begins to calm down, you lovingly caress his back; deciding to try again.

“How are you feeling, darling?”

Luke doesn’t utter a word. However, you feel him move even closer to your body as if there was any space left. You tighten your hold on him as you place a kiss atop his forehead.

“Mommy’s not mad at you, okay?”

With what you assume is the last of his sobs, Luke quietly replies, “Okay…”

He breaks away from your hold and looks you in the eye, “I’m sorry.”

You offer him a reassuring smile, “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to scare you, honey.”

You plant a wet kiss atop his nose, making him giggle.

“May I know why you wanted to watch more TV?” you ask.

When you see a hint of hesitation on his demeanor you add, “I’m not upset. I promise. Go on, you can tell me.”

“Sidney…”

“Do– Do you miss him?” you ask hesitantly, afraid to hear what his answer might be.

Your son nods, “Uh-huh.”

Of course.

Luke continues, “He said… he’s going to play with me when he comes back.”

“Where is he, Mom? Why isn’t he back?”

“I…” you struggle. You didn’t know how to tell him that this was all because of your doing. “I don’t know, honey.”

Luke looks at you with his little eyes, all too tired from crying. “Doesn’t he wanna play with me?”

You shake your head, determined not to put thoughts in his head that could be a detriment as to how he saw Sidney. Funny how you still instinctively did things for Sidney’s sake.

“Of course, he does, sweetheart. He’s just—”

Your son interrupts, “He’s just what?”

You caress his cheek as you say, “He needed to take care of some stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

You hum, playing with his hair. “Stuff like what Mom also has to take care of sometimes.”

You think of an example. “Like, when I leave you with Aunt Claire for a little while, you remember?”

He looks up at you with enthusiasm in his voice when he says, “Aunt Claire always gives me M&Ms.”

You give him a warm and knowing smile. “She does, doesn’t she?”

Your son continues, “She also gives me candy when you come back.”

“Yes! See– I always come back, right?” you begin to explain. “Sidney’s gonna come back too, honey. It’s just taking a while. We need to wait a bit longer.”

Luke tilts his head, “Longer?”

“Yes, right. Can you do that? Can you wait a little more for Sidney?”

Once again, only with a discernible smile spreading on his lips, your son nods.

“Are you gonna wait for him too?”

It takes a few seconds before you are able to answer.

“Yes. I am also waiting for him.”

𖥸

Days have gone and your son stayed true to his words. He’s waiting patiently for Sidney.

In the meantime, Luke has shifted his focus on his art albeit not entirely off hockey given that most of his drawings were of hockey sticks, pucks, and the Pittsburgh Penguins logo.

You no longer mind for as long as he is, for lack of a better term, distracted. You and Sidney have remained in no contact with one another and it is highly likely to remain the same. You may have kept in touch with Cath and Anna but neither of them gave you word as to how Sidney was doing. Surely, they were thinking you did not really care for it. Did you?

You sigh, watching your son soundly asleep as he takes his afternoon nap. Days have been quite easier ever since the night you last saw Sidney. But you have to admit, seeing your son’s room now reminds you of him. You would have easily shut down the idea of having Sidney taint the corners of your home with his presence; particularly your son’s room. It would have easily aggravated you, perhaps fuel the hate you have for him even more. How come you don’t? How come what you feel instead is the void in your gut that is melancholy.

Quietly, you shut the door of your son’s room to let him rest.

You have been pondering as to how to remedy your situation with Sidney but alas, nothing came close to a practicable and civil reconciliation. You knew full well that co-parenting would be hard given the fact that it was one of the reasons why you chose to be your son’s only parent. You just fell short of realizing how it will equally be as hard on you. As much as you’d give every fiber of your being to be the best Mother you can be to your child, it kills you to acknowledge that Luke needs someone other than you, even more so that it inevitably means him needing his father.

Perhaps Sidney isn’t the only one who had a hand in everything falling apart. ‘Perhaps’ is a little far fetched but a mere inkling would suffice. You are not yet ready to acknowledge you had your share in the wrongs that make up this little broken family of yours.

You were putting away Luke’s plushies in his toy bin when you heard the doorbell ring. You place the bin on the floor before you make your way to the front door. It was unusual given that you were not really expecting anyone to drop by. The only close friends you have in the city would not be so careless in doing so for obvious reasons.

You take a quick glance on the doorbell camera and your heart immediately sinks.

Of all the people you’d expect to be waiting at the other side of the door, she would be the last one.

The moment you opened the door you were welcomed with eyes as blue as the ocean back home, hair that is as gold as the afternoon sun, and a smile that’s entirely identical to Sidney’s and your son’s.

Close to losing all the words you know, you were able to say one name.

“Taylor.”

She wastes no second, “Is it true?”

You see Taylor’s eyes wander off to Luke’s toy bin sitting idly near the staircase. The discerning look on her face let you know she no longer needed an answer.

“Come in.” you say.

Quiet and unsettling air sits as you invite Sidney’s sister inside your home. You did not really know where to begin. The best thing you can do now is to lead her to your living room, offer some tea, and sit in silence.

“Can I get you anything? I might have some tea lying around.” you say, offering formalities.

Taylor gives you a tight-lipped smile. Reserved. You get it. You would be too if you recently learned you had a nephew.

“Water would be nice.” she replies.

You give her a swift nod just as you tell her, “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

You turn on your heels and make your way towards the kitchen with cold hands and a pounding heart. Sitting with Sidney’s sister for afternoon tea isn’t exactly what you had in mind spending your time off work.

Needless to say, you prolong the trip to the kitchen and back to the living room. You need to buy yourself some time to process what’s about to happen.

Upon your return, you see Taylor looking at the photo wall you’ve created through the years. The very same one you caught Sidney looking at the first time you invited him over.

When the two of you catch each other’s gaze, you offer Taylor an apologetic smile. It’s true. You now realize how your new life — your growth looked like through the eyes of your old friends. A harsh reminder that none of them are in it.

You and Taylor were good friends ever since Sidney brought you to Halifax to meet his folks. You always had a hard time warming up to people you barely know, but with Taylor… well, she made it so easy.

If only she knew of the things you’ve gone through subsequent to the better parts of your life with her brother. Maybe then, she’d understand.

The two of you utter each other’s names at once, immediately stopping upon realization.

You gladly let Taylor know she could continue what she was about to say. After all, you know she has nothing but questions that only you could answer.

The first thing she asks is, “What happened?”

You begin to explain. You tell her about the first time you knew you were pregnant, the moment you told Sidney, and how things unraveled shortly after that. You spared her no detail of what has come and gone; the years that flew by so quickly and dreadfully slow at the same time.

“I didn’t know things were that hard,” she says apologetically, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” you pause, “I knew Sidney felt alone.”

With kind eyes, Taylor replies, “So were you.”

Taylor has always been on your side despite being Sidney’s sister. She knew how difficult her brother can be. After all, she grew up with him.

You sigh because what she said was true. You and Sidney were alone together. But regardless of the wall that separated the two of you, you didn’t want to let Sidney feel as alone as you felt when he left you. Maybe that’s why you inadvertently left Taylor out of the mess just so Sidney felt he still had someone on his side.

“At the time everyone blamed him for not wanting a child.” you begin, “I knew that if I told you, you’d feel the same as I do. I didn’t want him to feel that his sister was against him too.”

“Listen,” she says, “When Sid told me, I swore that I was gonna come up here and be mad at you… but for years, I’ve seen how the game ate up most of the Sid I knew. So I guess, I couldn’t really blame you.”

“I only did what I thought was the best for us.” you say honestly, “I just didn’t think the repercussions of my action would bring us into this much mess.”

It’s true. The life you pictured with your son excluded Sidney, but you should have known that what Claire told you was right the moment you came back to Pittsburgh with your son. Sure, the first year went by so blissfully. But you have forgotten yet another circumstance you should have known before you dealt another card: Luke.

Luke is growing up exactly how you dreamt him to be. A boy who has a mind of his own. You cannot really expect him to go along your every plan if he’s already becoming his own person, can you?

You hate yourself for it. However, you’ll hate yourself even more if you deprive him of something he is entitled to have no matter how much you’re against it.

Taylor stayed for a while. You spend the time showing her memories you’ve made with Luke. You showed pictures of your son as a newborn, the many birthday parties you have thrown for him, even the ones you have taken of him playing hockey. Taylor savored every bit of the nephew she could get to know. The only thing left now is to finally meet him.

With nothing but a humble heart you hold Taylor’s hand and say, “I’m really sorry.”

Taylor puts her hand on top of yours, giving it a squeeze. “I understand.”

“Do you want to meet him?”

“I do,” she gives you a warm smile, “but not when you and Sidney have yet to patch things up.”

You let go of her hand and sigh. You understood what she wanted you to do. For the first time, you wanted the same thing too.

“I’ll talk to him.”

𖥸

July has been warming up the city but your words still rang in Sidney’s ears as if it had just been uttered.

“I’m done.”

As hard as it was to admit, Sidney knew that the article was the final nail in the coffin — the final string that would make him understand why you had to keep his son away from him. Just like all the other times, you were right. He had always been less of a man much like all the others.

He couldn’t wrap his head around how he managed to screw things up worse than he already had even when he was barely making any progress. Perhaps, it was foolish of him to think he can still make it work. After all, what more remedy could he do to the very thing you have long buried six feet under?

Instead, what he did was go home to Halifax days subsequent to the release of the controversial article. The last thing he wanted was attention so he did the sanest thing he could think of: renovate his lake shed.

Apart from the fact that it was the off-season, Sidney could not see himself staying in his Pittsburgh home. The night you ended the attempt to co-parent with him only reminded Sidney of the time he foolishly thought he had already purged out of his system. It was as if he had been brought back to the night he was told his child was gone.

“Please don’t end us.” he says, knees already on the cold hospital floor. “Please don’t make me leave.”

Sidney feels your grip on his hand tighten as an attempt to break off his hold, but before you can do so, the door to your room opens to reveal Kris and Geno rushing to take Sidney away from you.

“Sidney,” he hears Geno call his name.

He didn’t budge. He wasn’t going anywhere without you. He knew you needed him. He understood what had to be done. A little too late, but he’s here now.

“Y/N-”

“Sid,” Kris places a hand on his shoulder just as he firmly says, “let her rest.”

It was the least thing Sidney could do. To let you be — as he had easily done so when it was the last thing you wanted.

Sidney came back to the hospital with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. He walked the halls with hope only to find out you were no longer there. He had been cut off as soon as Kris and Geno walked him out of your hospital room — the last time he was ever going to see you.

He waited for hours sitting on the lobby bench beside your hospital room. If it were not for the next patient arriving to occupy the room, Sidney would not have probably left.

The days he spent in your shared home haunted him of the days he had left you alone in it waiting for him to come home. The house he had built with his fame and successes have now become a constant reminder of what a failure it really was.

Sidney sighed once he finished a glass of water. He absent mindedly places it atop the counter as his eyes remained in focus at a photograph placed on his refrigerator. It had been a while since he last saw it. After all, he only gets to go home during the off season.

He walks towards the fridge and takes the photo in his hand. It was the first sonogram you had of your son. The one you dread having to leave when you finally had the courage to leave Sidney, but the last possession Sidney has of the life he could have been living.

With eyes now glistening with impending tears, Sidney lightly rubs his thumb on the picture — what was once a tiny little peanut has grown to become a boy Sidney could no longer keep out of his mind. He’s hurting at the fact that he misses you — but his heart aches at the thought of Luke eventually forgetting about him. Sidney knows he’s going to be yet another random ‘Mr.’ at a camp that happened to teach him a sport he will grow up to forget eventually. All those memories Sidney will bring with him to his deathbed will surely be forgotten by the time the tiny little peanut graduates from college.

Who else could he blame for the life he’s now living however miserable it may be? You offered him this life with your own life on the line. Sidney did nothing but toss it aside because he was set on his ways. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself. Perhaps, that’s what he should bring to his deathbed.

Sidney’s self-loathing was put into a halt when he heard a chime coming from his phone already buzzing on his kitchen counter.

He sees a message that almost had him on his knees.

Just below your name were the words he had least expected but mostly hoped to read, “Can we talk?”

𖥸

As soon as you were able to set a date, Sidney wasted no time and got in the next flight bound for Pittsburgh. Sidney had two days to prepare before meeting you and while that seemed like enough time to be able to think about what he’s going to say the moment he sees you, he could neither ascertain how to explain nor justify his shortcomings. So, he won’t.

Sidney watches your car pull over the driveway after having opened his gate. After the tedious two-day wait, you were back. Well, at least that’s what Sidney thought at the time. Because unlike him, it was not just two days — it has been six years.

Sidney was chivalrous enough to let a few seconds pass before he finally opened the door for you although to tell you the truth, he had been at the other side of it long before you rang the doorbell.

You follow Sidney’s steps as you make your way to the living room. Said walk was not like the others you used to thread on back when you were still together — it wasn’t so long and quiet. At least, it didn’t feel that way.

“Can I offer you a drink?” Sidney asks. The hoarseness in his voice strung along his words.

Has he been crying that much? His eyes were a bit tired. He hasn’t been sleeping. How come Kris said he was fine? But then again, Sidney has had quite a talent in putting up a facade. You catch him fiddling his thumb. When he sees where your eyes have been, Sidney immediately takes his hand into his pocket.

You immediately put your gaze elsewhere. “Uh, just water.”

As you scan the view that is Sidney Crosby’s home, one thing comes to mind: it looks nothing like Connor Mcdavid’s. Sidney’s was far more deserving to be featured in Architectural Digest. To hell with black and metal. This was a home.

Well, it is. Just not for Sidney.

Even if it was, a part of you knew Sidney would never parade his home for everyone else to see; let alone have it printed on a magazine.

Apart from the wood panels that fashioned the ceilings, everything else was unfamiliar. It was as if you never lived in it. He had new pieces displayed in various corners of the room. Some of it worth millions sitting idly beside or on top of worn out books like some mere paper weight.

Sidney also redid the floors. Neutral wide plank flooring. You thought that it was quite a bold choice considering the majority of the furniture you had before came in dark tones. But then, that made you realize Sidney also bought new furniture. He also changed a few fixtures, here and there. The white french sliding doors leading to the patio were now replaced with glass doors that had wood trimmings as well as the hallway leading to your old home office that now had interior glass doors. You notice tons of boxes you could see from the other side. Perhaps, he thought it would now be a good use for a storage space. After all, he had to fill in every bit of void you’ve left him with.

You tear your eyes away from the halls you used to frequent. Instead, you quietly follow Sidney’s footsteps. The house still had an open floor-plan. Sidney loved seeing everything at once. At least that hasn’t changed.

“Make yourself comfortable.” he says with a tight-lipped smile just as he turns towards the kitchen.

The cloud of uncertainty was still evident and heavy. To top it all, you were neither sure of what to tell him nor where to begin. Clearly, you should have bought yourself a bit more time before ringing his doorbell.

You hold your bag close to your chest once you’ve sat in Sidney's living room. You were wrong. The changes he made were drastic. His taste then was incomparable to how it is now. The Sidney you knew then wouldn’t be so meticulous as to what type of wood to use in his fireplace or what fabric to pick when it comes to throw pillows lining the couch. Hell, he wouldn’t have thought of having one — let alone five.

A quiet smile seeps in your lips. It’s nice that something good has come out of such an ugly chapter in your lives.

Your eyes catch a shade of blue and crimson red blankly displayed on the side of the room from where you were sitting. You feel a gnawing guilt resting in your guts as the painting comes into full view. You stand as your hand travels to your chest. It was a piece by Peter Doig called the “100 Years Ago”.

A man sits alone in a canoe in the middle of a quiet and still ocean. The man looks at you helpless and tired of what must have been an arduous journey. You meet his eyes, as if it were in desperate need of help. Your help. But then again, there’s an island waiting for him — even a house sitting on top of the hill. Couldn’t he just row his way and ask for help? Perhaps his inability to do so was due to the fact that he’d already gone to that house — maybe what it really was is just as empty as what he already had in the canoe.

As the eerily still piece settles before your eyes, you can’t help but think of what it must have been like to be the one that’s stuck. The man that was torn between two distances. To choose between whatever it was sitting before his eyes and the big island he can always call home.

“Hey.”

Sidney’s voice pulls you back to your feet.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” he says, two glasses of water in each hand.

“No, it’s all right.” you say.

“That–” you turn your gaze back to the painting before continuing, “That is something.”

Sidney gives a humble smile. “Thanks. I got it a couple of years back when I started renovating the place.”

It would be absurd to say that Sidney’s house has not changed since the last time you walked its halls. It did change. A lot. After all, you didn’t expect him to leave everything as it was; how you left it. Despite that, there was a little hope that Sidney did leave a bit of what might have reminded him of you untouched.

“So– listen, the reason why I came here.” you begin, hugging the glass with both your hands.

“I know. Taylor.” Sidney saves you the need to explain. “I’m sorry I told her. I wasn’t in my right mind the last couple of weeks.”

It’s true. He knew it must have been hard for you to tell Taylor everything. It was yet another reason for you to cut him completely out of your life, yet another rash decision, yet another failure. Sidney did what he could at the time and his only wish now is for you to understand. He had just lost you and his son twice. To have done otherwise would have made him lose his mind.

“No. It’s alright. She’s bound to know that she has a nephew.” you earnestly reply.

At this point, you have come to realize that you’ve been insufferable regardless of your own merits. Sidney thought he had lost a son. You couldn’t possibly deprive him of his own sister.

“How– how is he?” he asks, afraid of how he’ll be answered.

You look Sidney in his eyes just as you say, “He’s been missing you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

Sidney takes in the new information as a quiet smile spreads on his lips. Luke misses him.

Seeing Sidney’s reaction brought you a sense of guilt and warmth only a parent could feel.

“Honestly, Taylor visiting isn’t really the reason why I’m here.”

His brows quirk and asks, “What do you mean?”

“I think…” you say, fighting yourself from refusing to tell Sidney the truth. The very truth that you’re still having a hard time accepting.

“I think it’s time to acknowledge– and for me to accept, that my son needs you.”

It’s the truth. It might have been hard for you given that Sidney was the root of it all, but you could no longer put up with the way you have been treating Sidney at your son’s expense. You may still have bits of resentment towards what once was but that doesn’t give you a right to deprive your son of his right. A part of you may still hate Sidney for the pain he caused you, but you could not bear the thought of your son hating his father because of your own doing.

Sidney is at a loss for words.

“Do you really mean that?”

He sees you nod.

You give him a reassuring smile.

“It’s one thing to keep a father away from his child, but it’s another to keep a child away from his father.”

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thinking1bee · 2 days

Text

You Haven't Failed Part 9

Requested by Anonymous

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Tags: Spidey!Reader, Venom!Reader, So Much Angst, Fluff, Established Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Injuries, Blood, Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut

Everything Taglist: @sammy90682 @nobody13 @owloftheshadows @captain-josslett @camslightstories @worldovart @finleyfray @acertainredhead @sammm9068 @reginassecretlover @ara-a-bird @alexawynters

Currently, Wanda was with Tony. She pulled him into his lab the moment the jet touched the ground. She needed answers, and it would start with the man who was more in tune with your physiology than she was.

“Is Y/n okay?” he asked her the moment he shut and locked the door to his lab. He could tell that this meeting was dire and confidential.

Wanda shook her head. “Before I found them, I had an alert sent to my phone.”

“Yeah, I got it too! Their entire body?! Were they being tortured?”

“I don’t know,” Wanda answered truthfully. “I just heard their screams and then the comms cut out. By the time I found them, they were wearing this black suit.”

“Black suit?” Tony asked in intrigue, and Wanda nodded.

He’d yet to see it, but he knew that whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t the suit that he left you in.

“Tentacles were coming out of their body.”

At that, Tony’s eyebrows flew up. “Okay, this I have to see.”

He turned towards his computer and booted the software that had been connected to the nanotech. Wanda watched as he clicked on a file. It opened to reveal a video recording. He skipped to the time where he first got the warning message and clicked play. Both Wanda and Tony watched as you hid in the vent, and the moment the alarm went off, you started screaming in pain. Wanda’s face contorted with dismay as she watched you scream. Tony turned his attention to the metrics he read, his eyes taking in your elevated blood pressure and heartrate, but what really made him freeze, was the map of your neural network in your brain. The brain waves increased tenfold, and your entire brain was engulfed in light.

“Jesus,” he exclaimed in a whisper, his eyebrows furrowing at what he saw. “Their entire brain is lit up like a damn Christmas tree.”

Wanda heard what he said, but her eyes were glued to the screen while her arms wrapped around her churning stomach. She never heard you scream like that. It was high-pitched, the volume almost rivaling the alarm in the background. Your pain poured through the microphone and Tony turned it down when it vibrated the speakers. The vent collapsed and she watched as you were thrown to the ground, your body writhing in pain as more agonized screams and sobs left you. Tony turned his attention back to the screen, and they both watched as you begged for it to stop. You kept begging and begging until you roared, your voice changing and warping into something unrecognizable. Wanda and Tony continued to watch the events unfold. The video was from your point of view, so all they could see was flashing concrete as you faced the ceiling. Before the video cut out, they watched as tendrils of black began to crawl across the field of the camera. They started on opposite sides, slithering together like snakes, the tendrils themselves like tiny grotesque fingers, as they moved to meet each other in the middle. The red light of the alarm was gradually snuffed out, piece by piece, and once the camera was completely obstructed, the video ended. Your biometric readings abruptly ended as well. Even the analyses in your brain activity suddenly went dark.

Tony didn’t know what to say. It was quiet in his lab saved for Wanda’s shaky breathing. Tony swallowed and ran a hand through his hair. He was still for a moment more before he turned back to his computer and typed into it again.

“What are you doing?”

“Pulling up readings of their DNA,” he answered as he typed furiously. Wanda quirked an eyebrow.

“Why would you need to see that?”

“Wanda, both Y/n and Peter were bitten by irradiated spiders. Radiation has forcibly changed their DNA,” he said, speaking to her like this should all be obvious. “We’re lucky that all they got were powers. The worst-case scenario, and the one that is more likely to occur, is that the radiation denatures their DNA or completely breaks it down. By all accounts of science, they should have melted.”

Wanda was going to be sick. The picture Tony painted was graphic and horrific.

“Y/n and Peter are scientific miracles. I have FRIDAY sequence their DNA once every 4 months so that I can catch harmful mutations before they become a problem. There’s still a chance that their DNA could break down or that they develop something nasty like cancer.”

Wanda nodded. She understood what he was saying, and she watched as he pulled up a section of readings from earlier today. He scrolled through the complex and slowed down when something black began to wrap around your DNA. Wanda saw it too, and she stepped closer, the disbelief evident on her features.

“FRIDAY can you analyze the anomaly on Y/n’s DNA?” Tony asked.

“Right away, Mr. Stark,” the disembodied voice responded. There was a silence in the lab that lasted a few minutes before FRIDAY spoke again.

“I cannot determine the identity of the anomaly. What I have discovered is that it is organic in nature.”

What the hell...? Tony and Wanda looked at each other, the seriousness of the situation evolving into something critical. For the first time in a while, Tony was stumped, but Wanda was already planning her next steps. She needed answers, and she knew who to talk to, to get them.

***

“I need that asset,” Osborn gritted, his voice hushed as he talked into his phone. “It’s somewhere around here, and we are running out of time. It cannot survive without a host. Find me what I need, or I swear that I’ll make your life a living hell.”

He ended the call before he stepped into his office. He wasn’t paying attention, his nose still buried into the device in his hand, so he didn’t see the body that sat in the chair in front of his desk. When Norman set down his belongings and looked up, he made eye contact with Wanda. She sat easily in his chair, her legs crossed elegantly as a slight smirk spread across her lips. He jumped, a small yelp leaving his lips, his back hitting the glass window behind him before he moved to press the alarm under his desk.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she said, the warning in her voice evidently clear. His fingers just grazed the button when he hesitated. She was still smiling, her legs still crossed as she raised her eyebrows at him.

“How did you get in here?” he demanded.

Wanda shrugged her shoulders, her hands raising as she made a show of looking around. “I walked through the front door.”

Norman pursed his lips, his cheeks turning red before he turned his attention to the multiple panels of security camera footage that recorded his entire building. Everyone was unconscious. Everyone. On every floor, bodies were either hunched over in their desks or collapsed onto the ground, and he hadn’t noticed. He was too engrossed with his phone call, the fear and frustration at his science experiment escaping, that he strode in and took the elevator to the floor of his office without sparing a second glance. Norman turned to look at her, his angry blush rapidly paling in fear. He flopped into his work chair and gulped.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll wake them up the moment I get what I need.”

“What do you want?” Norman whispered.

“Several weeks ago, you came to the Avengers and asked us to take care of a situation that was ‘out of your hands’” she recited as she used air quotes.

“Yeah, but the Avenger, Spidey I think it was, told me that they didn’t find anything.”

Wanda clenched her jaw and regarded him with slitted eyes. “I actually think it was the other way around.”

“Pardon?”

Norman wasn’t following and he tried to make sense of what she was saying.

“I don’t think Spidey found your asset. I think the asset found Spidey,” Wanda clarified.

Norman’s eyes widened before he sat back in his seat. He looked at his desk, his heart thundering in his chest. He wiped his sweaty hands on his thighs before he looked at her nervously.

“What did you have in that lab?” She punctuated her words harshly, her voice stern and her accent more prominent as anger wrapped around the question. “And don’t you dare lie to me Norman Osborn. I will tear your mind apart, piece by piece, to dig the truth from you if I have to.”

All the color leeched from his face at her threat and sweat began to gather on his forehead and upper lip. Wanda looked at him expectantly, her fingers beginning to drum on her thigh as her patience wore thin.

“Several months ago, we retrieved a fallen meteorite. My intentions with it had been to discover anything that could be used to save my sick son from his degenerative disease. We found out that the meteorite wasn’t what it seemed. Inside was…”

He trailed off, his mouth opening and closing as he choked on his words.

“Spit it out!” Wanda snapped, her body leaning forward slightly.

“Inside was an alien.”

“An alien,” she repeated, her voice portraying her disbelief.

“A symbiote,” he clarified. “Whose molecular structure was so spectacular, I thought that I had found a cure for my boy.”

“You infected your son with an alien?”

Norman scoffed and looked away. “You wouldn’t understand. You have no idea what it’s like to have someone you love slowly die right in front of you, and you’re helpless to stop it.”

Actually, Wanda did know. She knew intimately, and many times over, what it was like to lose loved ones, but she had no desire to show any solidarity to the man in front of her. She had more important people to be worried about.

“The answer is no. I did not infect my son with the alien. I ran tests first.”

“And what did you learn from these tests?”

“That at first, the symbiosis appears to be beneficial. The alien will imbue its host with health, strength, and energy. The host will feel good and unstoppable,” Norman explained.

“But?” Wanda prompted.

“The symbiote slowly changes their brain chemistry. It feeds of the emotions of the host to bend them to its will. The affected person will start to act angry. Irrational. They’ll lash out indiscriminately against people as the symbiote takes them over. Eventually, they’ll turn violent as their DNA merges with the symbiote.”

Wanda had uncrossed her legs, her breaths increasing as an ominous atmosphere grew in the room. She moved to sit at the edge of her seat, her hands gripping the arm rests tightly. Her knuckles bled white under her skin from the force of her grip. Everything that Norman outlined, were all things that were happening to you.

“What happens when the DNA merges completely?” Wanda demanded.

“The symbiote will take them over completely. The person you knew will cease to exist.”

Wanda cursed loudly, her Russian slicing through the air as she stood to her feet.

“If the symbiote has your friend, they’re in trouble. Mix their powers with the limitless abilities of the symbiote, you’re going to have one hell of a time separating them from each other.”

“They can be separated?”

At that, Norman went quiet. Wanda approached his desk and leaned over it, placing her hands on the flat surface. He shrunk into his seat when her eyes glowed a bright red.

“Yes, but the separation can cause the host extreme harm. It can even kill them.”

Wanda stood straight and pinched the bridge of her nose. With every new detail learned, the situation was getting worse and worse.

“How can I beat this thing?”

“It doesn’t like loud noises,” he answered. “The sound has to ring. It has to be dissonant and sharp. It must resonate. A bell. The sharp clang of metal against metal.”

Wanda stepped away from him, her eyes fading back to a steely green, and she turned away and walked out of his office.

“How are you going to trap it?!” Norman called after her. “It cannot be contained without having its meteor or a vacuum sealed cannister!”

She didn’t answer him. That wasn’t even Wanda’s primary concern. She needed to quickly get back to you and she whipped out her phone to call Tony. Through the cameras, Norman watched as she strutted out of the front door, and the moment she crossed the threshold, she raised her hand and waved it with the simple turn of her wrist. He saw the wave of red leave her palm, and as it washed over the building, Norman watched as the people inside began to wake up.

Part 10

#ladies of marvel #the avengers #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #reader insert #x reader #fem!reader #spidey!reader #venom!reader #graphic depictions of injuries #graphic depictions of violence #angst #so much angst #fluff #smut #violence #blood #feelings #lgbtqia

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that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction · 1 day

Note

Okay, if you were asked who are in Merlin BBC that you can see based on canon that are gay/bi/pan/demi, which characters are they? Why?

I’m just gonna note that I’m not attached to any sexuality headcanon because people are going to have different opinions and it seems daft to lose more than half the fan content (art, fics, etc) just because of a headcanon. I’ll read more or less anything, I play around with queer themes in my writing fairly regularly and multiship everyone in the show, sometimes with characters from other fandoms too, but these are the sexualities I’ve written most of for each character otherwise this would be way too long.

And I know I’m assigning modern understandings of sexuality to medieval characters, but it’s a show with dragons and magic, also capes, a French castle, and whatever the hell that chainmail was so I think I can be excused for my historical inaccuracy.

Merlin: either gay or bi with a a preference for men. I could never get myself to really like Freya in the show, she wasn’t bad and I didn’t hate her, I usually just forget about her because it was one episode so I didn’t have enough time to get attached. She deserved more screen time and I love what the fandom has done with her character, but I usually see her where Merlin’s shipped with someone else so I honestly forget their romance exists most of the time. Other than that, I usually see him shipped with knights or Arthur or if he’s shipped with another woman, it’s someone who didn’t get enough screen time to get attached, or a mergwenthur (is that their ship name?) poly relationship.

Arthur: bi and demi. He needs time to like someone, canonically only started wearing a shirt after he got married but he walked around his chambers naked when it was just Merlin/no sexual implications in a servant of two masters. I’ve done deep dive character analysis into that and what it says for their trust of one another if anyone’s interested. It goes into them being platonic but acting like a couple and why meant so much for me to see as a kid and also why I think that proves their relationship is more than words can fully encapsulate. Also he’s had crushes on men and women so bi just fits.

Gwen: bi with a preference for men, she and Morgana had chemistry and I ship them pre season 3 but after that, not so much. Also had crushes on Lancelot, Merlin and married Arthur. They’re an adorable couple, honestly I love them. I don’t really have much else to say.

Morgana: aroace lesbian. Just my favourite headcanon, I like that she never had a canon relationship but she definitely had chemistry with Gwen. They’re just sweet together. I don’t know, mostly just vibes and my desire for more aroace rep.

Lancelot: bi with a preference for women. Gwen and Merlin. Yeah, that’s pretty much all I have to say. I just love that he’s such a great guy, I don’t think there’s anything more to it than two crushes in canon and vibes. I’ve written him as unlabelled or queer a fair amount, it really just depends.

Leon: Romance and sex averse aroace. Again, I just want representation and think he’s cool. I’ve seen him shipped with others, but I tend to default to aroace Leon in my own works more than anything else. Occasionally I’ll give him a qpr but it just depends on what I’m writing.

Gwaine: aromatic pansexual, he likes flirting but I think the idea of a permanent long term relationship would be “the one to tie him down” and it never entirely fits right. I’ve seen him shipped with Percival, I love that but usually if I’m writing it, I’ll have them in a qpr. I think he definitely feels low levels of romantic attraction but not enough to want a romantic relationship with someone, he loves so much, just not in the traditional ways and writing aroallo Gwaine is always super fun.

Elyan: I headcanon Elyan as trans masc but I don’t think I’ve got any specific headcanons for his sexuality. I’ve probably written him straight slightly more than anything else, but it’s a close tie between writing him straight and bi. It never usually comes up, so maybe just unlabelled or queer. I don’t know, he’s just Elyan. That’s all really.

Percival: I know in canon he had a wife and kids, I write him as being gay more than anything else, but my main headcanon tends to be that he’s bi or pan. Purely based on vibes but if it’s not relevant to the plot, I won’t bother mentioning it.

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moutheyes · 3 days

Text

many thoughts about currently airing QL

i meant to get this done earlier but i blinked and it's almost we are wednesday again. however, i still wanna get some thoughts on page for posterity.

only boo (completed!)

while this show had its imperfections, its triumphs largely outweighed its shortcomings. as a vehicle to showcase seakeen's acting abilities, chemistry, and viability as a cp, you really couldn't have asked for much more. moo is a son of all time, and both he and kang were fully realized characters that were a joy to watch and root for each week.

i think the writing sacrificed some of its side plots to the trope gods—the secondary romance between potae and payos deserved more than endless miscommunication, while shone's reintroduction as an eleventh-hour obstacle was clunky at best. there are also valid criticisms to be made about gmmtv's (in)ability to deliver a substantial in-text critique of the idol industry's stance on dating, and if that had been part of the show's thesis, maybe i'd feel more strongly about it, but it wasn't. it was an obstacle for the relationship between kang and moo, and as a gmmtv romcom, it was never positioned to promise anything more than a happy ending.

was the central storyline strong enough to overcome some of the uneven writing towards the end? to me, yes, absolutely it was. kangmoo was the beating heart of the show, and the script did everything right, up until graduation, to make us buy into not only their individual characterizations and motivations but also the strength of their relationship, the mutual support and adoration and understanding that made their love feel so much fuller. i'm going to miss having seakeen on my screen every sunday and i hope they get the superstar projects they deserve moving forward.

wandee goodday (ep 8 of 12)

this show has kind of entered a mushy middle stage for me. fake dating, as a trope, requires healthy suspension of belief, and the fwb setup is working at odds with that. it's become very evident in the last couple of episodes, where the only way dee and yak can individually keep up their own pretenses (more on dee's side, tbf to yak) is through a deliberate failure of communication, which gets exhausting to watch after a while. i'm glad yak finally confessed his feelings at the end of ep 8; hopefully the show can emerge out of this storytelling slump and end on a strong note.

oye and cher's proposal scene made me emotional, though. it was so sweet and so simple, and although we still don't have too much background on their relationship, it felt very organic to what we know of them, with the imaginary ring and the casual spontaneity of it all.

my stand-in (ep 9 of 12)

i was not expecting this to be my front-runner for show of the year, but it's really hitting on all levels for me: acting (up is always special, and poom has been a revelation), production (cinematography and camerawork are magnificent), and storytelling (smart, elegant adaptation and localization choices for the most part). with 3 episodes left and most of the major secrets revealed, there's plenty of time for groveling, retribution, and tying up loose ends, by which i mean fucking in missionary. no major notes; carry on.

we are (ep 12 of 16)

last week's episode was a bit slow even by this show's own standards, but what i liked about it was getting to see more of phum and fang's home life and how that has shaped their approaches to relationships. a lot of it was implied in the earlier episodes, so seeing it depicted a little more clearly—phum's abandonment issues and current friction with his father, fang's self-imposed perfectionism—introduced some much-needed depth to their characters.

also, unlike dee and yak's infuriating situationship in wandee goodday, i don't mind the undefined limbo that phum and peem have been occupying. this show has shown us that peem struggles with articulating his sense of self, most notably through his art, so it makes sense to me that he would be overly cautious in confirming his own feelings on an intellectual level, despite being able to act on his emotional and physical connection to phum.

i'm a little worried the show isn't leaving enough room to properly develop chainpun as the final couple, but what we haven gotten is delightful. in another universe this is the friends-to-lovers slowburn of my dreams.

knock knock boys (ep 5 of 12)

speaking of delights, this show is so fucking underrated. it has given me everything i wanted from its pilot trailer: the housemate shenanigans and comedic beats are chef's kiss, of course, but there's also a real sense of a camaraderie being built up between the four boys. the acting, also, has been remarkably even; i knew seng and best would bring it, but jaonine and nokia have held their own and really inhabited their roles.

i'm actually really pleased that jane is, in fact, peak's fiancee. the vibes that some of us got from that initial glimpse of their relationship wasn't wrong, though—they treat each other the way siblings do, which is probably indicative of an arrangement between their families. jane is on "i got your location from your dad" terms with peak's father, but she's also on "i'll cover for you and pretend you're not here" terms with peak, even as she's fully committed to invading his space and annoying the snot out of him until he gives in and stops running from his problems. extremely sibling behavior!! there is not a single whiff of romance between the two of them, but they are facing a difficult situation that will need to be resolved before either of them can move on and live their lives.

one thing about this show that i keep thinking about is the significance of thanwa's wardrobe. i clocked in ep 1 that he and his (probable) ex dressed very similarly, and the scene with the two of them in ep 5 just drove that detail home. now that we know thanwa a little better, i wonder if he's the type of person to conform to a lover's aesthetic (consciously or subconsciously). he is a caretaker and a little bit of a pushover, and clothing choice is a way that could manifest. it might not be anything, but i also wouldn't be surprised if we see some of peak's style sneak into thanwa's wardrobe as their romance develops.

there's so much more i could say about this show! the characters are all so fascinating to me, both individually and as a group!!! i'm gonna be late for a movie if i keep typing, though, so i will try to organize further thoughts after this week's episode.

love sea (ep 3 of 10)

as far as mame shows go, this has been unexpectedly enjoyable from the jump. fortpeat are delivering a much different dynamic than their whumpfest from LITA, and if you take out all the smoldering sex scenes, there has been plenty of actual character (and relationship) development through dialogue, which i appreciate. i like that the tension isn't confined to simple class difference; the writing situates mut at the intersection of various regional, economic, and environmental concerns, and that makes him so much more compelling as a foil to tongrak's more conventional slate of bl traumas. i do hope the show continues to maintain those core parts of his characterization as the romance progresses.

#only boo #wandee goodday #my stand in #we are the series #knock knock boys #love sea the series

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jenchan-writingmultis · 1 day

Text

Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanons

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Pairing: Sylus x AFAB Reader

Not beta read!

Warning: Toxic! Relationship, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapping, Forced Drug Usage, Exhibitionism, BDSM, Sadistic! Sylus, Cussing, Blood, SYLUS! (He gets his own warning) If there are warnings that I didn’t notice, please let me know, thank you!

Masterlist Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanons (Part One)

Sylus NSFW Headcanons

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

SFW:

✄ He wouldn’t forget about the men you keep in your life; they’re so obsessed with you that they all got impacted by your disappearance, especially Rafayel, who was the one that got you into the situation, he knows that the guy was the reason why you almost died, twice? Was it thrice? Anyways that’s too much for someone who says that they loved you for 800 years, (He’s a full-time stalker, do you think his raven wouldn’t hear your conversation when that man got hospitalized?)

✄ For his amusement... he usually tends to give them little trinkets of your possessions where they live or lets you send a message to them once in a while. Just to mess with them, after all, they're the ones who got to have plenty of time with you, and yet here you are, in his home. He considers himself the winner right now.

✄ Out of all the male leads, the one he considers to be a big threat was Lumiere, the number of times he almost got caught with you, that man is crazy. (as if he isn’t) so whenever he lets you out, he makes sure you’re not identifiable, it’s simple really, he uses a device that changes your appearance to look vastly different from your looks.

✄ In terms of Physical affection, he would do it when you still despise him, he’d force you to kiss him, planting his lips on yours while you squirm from your chains, try to bite his lips, he’ll slap your thighs with a baton, specifically your inner thighs mind you, since it hurts so much more there. Yeah, keep trying to hurt him, he’ll make sure to give it back tenfold.

✄ Does he hug you? He does, though the type of hugs he gives aren’t comfortable, it’s where you can’t move, can’t leave or squirm your way out of his hold, he’s strong enough to hold you down.

✄ Cry for him! He likes seeing your tears, angry tears, or pained tears, he doesn’t care, he just wants to see you sob. While he loves that you’re bratty, he also prefers obedient mutts as stated in the first headcanons. If he needs to punish you for that he’s very much willing.

✄ He does drug you often. He likes watching you turn into a mush, a pliant pet for him, he doesn’t take advantage of you in this state though, he just gets tired of your constant squirming when he wants your cuddle after a long day of work, he’d come back to his home, his bodyguards and servants greeting him enthusiastically (they’re forced to) while you on the other hand, just spat insult after insult to him. He would appreciate the feisty personality you have if he has the energy for it.

✄ He’d grab your cheeks in a bruising grip before he grabs a pill box, finding the right drug to put you in a state where you reciprocate his love for you, he forces your jaw open before pouring 3 pills into your mouth.

✄ “Drink” he’d ordered, you gasped, trying to push the pills out of your throat, “spit it out, you’ll regret it” his voice harsh, while he forces cold water down your throat, making sure that you drank it, the moment he lets your cheeks go, you’d be coughing and gasping for air, he drenched your shirt too cause of what he did, but he doesn’t care, you’re acting like a feral dog, be ready to be treated like one.

✄ The moment the drugs start to circulate in your system, making you tired and obedient, he’ll carry you to the bed, where you were supposed to be, but didn’t like being on since that bed reminded you that you were trapped.

✄ In times like this, he turns vulnerable, asking you to tell him how much you love him, he likes hearing it, you never told him those words, and he could only hear it when you’re drugged out.

✄ You cuddle him, breathing ragged while he traces his fingers on your back, causing you to shiver, it was cold and hot at the same time, and the only comfort you feel is when you’re pressed against his body, he is the only solace you feel when you’re in this state, and you hated it.

✄ When he tells you he loves you, you respond so eagerly, like a proper mutt.

✄ He'd plant kisses on your face, his hand gently holding your back to adjust your position on his lap. Your skin, warm from the effects of the drugs, pressed against his. Seizing the moment, he continued kissing you, his lips trailing down to your neck, where he left bites, he’d savor your whimpers.

✄ Oh, but if you mention any of the male lead’s name except for him while you’re in a dreamlike state, he’d be fuming with jealousy, but it’s not obvious, his subtle hints would be on his body language, the way his kisses became rougher, he bites your bottom lip, breaking skin and making you bleed, if you wince in pain, he’d have a sneer on his face. His grip on your back would go to your waist, chubby or not, he’d have you under his mercy, his hands tugging your cuffs and placing your wrists on top of your head.

“Even if your brain’s a mush you never fail to hit a nerve pretty”

✄ After you fall asleep under his “care”, he’ll take care of you, changing your outfit before he tucks you to bed, you’ll often wake up alone, but with a letter that says that he’ll be expecting proper etiquette from you next time.

✄ Does he say “I love you” to you? If you’re still mad at him, he would out of spite, He would infuse it with such sweetness that it’s guaranteed to make you angrier. Honestly, he loves seeing you try to piss him off. Keep going, love; you're at least one step closer.

✄ On the other hand, once you develop Stockholm syndrome, he won’t say it much, you didn’t become boring, he just likes seeing you desperate to please him, to get his love so he stops his affections just for you to beg for it.

✄ Is it hard to withhold loving you? Nope, it’s easy for him, he lived without your constant affection, even during the months he kept you in his home, you didn’t give him the privilege of your love, so he doesn’t mind not touching you at all, not giving you the attention you want, or the verbal affirmation if he still loved you.

✄ Once you start crying and begging, that’s where he’d hush you, petting your head before he kisses your forehead.

“I’m sorry pretty, I’m here now, don’t cry” He’d coo before you hug him as if your life depended on it.

#love and deepspace #l&ds rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace mc #lnds xavier #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #lads sylus #sylus smut #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #sylus #lnds x reader

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